#but man. it’s hard to believe that the year is almost over… time flew

[deus-ex-mona]

also, it’s 🎄that🎄 time of year again~~

[fandomzwriterk]

can i request yandere remy labeau x reader smut. Maybe he confesses his love to his darling and it leads to smut( if your comfortable with that)

My Queen of Hearts

Warnings: Yandere Remy + slightly ooc Remy + possessive Remy + NSFW content + Virgin Reader & Remy

A/n: I’m gonna do my best for this request and I’ll do the smut but be warned I’m not the best so don’t laugh. Also 3rd person reader! Pardon my poor Cajun-French I’m sorry😭😭

NSFW below 👇🏻

Remy Labeau was an eccentric man, and everyone in the X-Men knew that, none more so than Rouge, Remy’s past lover. Past? No that can’t be right… right? He still loves her right?

Nope

Remy moved on after Magneto came and moved into the mansion. He knew he stood no chance against the very man whom she could hold and touch. Much to everyone else’s surprise, even you, he said he was uninterested in her anymore.

“She ain’t my type of girl. That’s it bon amí.”

Logan didn’t believe him, after all he still loved Jean even if she was married, but he kept that to himself. Remy was just confused according to Logan. Morph and even Jubilee just went along with it… almost too well. But who were you to judge? Remy was one of your closest friends here, so of course you’d be by his side through his complicated relationship with Rouge.

“Hey Y/n can you, Storm, and Jean help me out with something?” You heard Jubilee say from down the hall

“I’ll be right there!” You spoke as you looked at Remy as he sat on the sofa, arms crossed behind his head as he listened to whatever Morph and Logan were telling him. “I’ll be right back Remy. Jubilee needs me.”

Remy smirked at you, just a classic thing he did to any girl he had “feelings” for. They weren’t real feelings, just a facade he put up around women, that’s just how Remy worked. But if you happened to be someone Remy wanted to give his attention to… he really showed you attention.

“Oh hello Y/n.” Jean spoke kindly as she waved a hello at you with a smile. It was nice to see her, she’d been gone with Scott for a few days. “Anyways Jubilee what did you want to talk about?”

“Well you know how Magnetos been here and… well I’ve just been wondering what you three have been thinking.”

Storm muttered something under her breath as she sat looking out the window thinking long and hard as a storm came rolling in. Jean couldn’t decide what she thought either.

“I think that, even with our rough past with him, he has good intentions for us and what the Professor wanted.”

“I’m not so sure Jean. He’s fought us for so many years and now that suddenly the Professor has passed and he’s deciding to forget it all? Something doesn’t add up.”

Both Storm and Jean were right. You hadn’t been around long enough to witness the bloodshed with Magneto that everyone had, but your time was long… just not long enough to meet the Professor. You’d been here when he had left, after Remy, Scott, Logan, Rouge, and Jean brought you back from a dangerous mission. You would’ve died that day if they didn’t save you from that gang and that half destroyed Sentinel.

“Well at least for Y/n it works out.”

“Jubilee!” Both women shouted

“What?! Rouge has been all ‘cuddly and friendly’ since Magneto got here and that leaves Gambit open.”

You just sighed, turning to walk out the door as the other three women stayed silent. Closing the door behind you hard, made you want to scream out loud about what Jubilee said.

“Just ignore it Y/n. Maybe it’ll-“

Your sentence cut short as a card flew in circles in front of you, doing a flip before heading into the darkness. Your eyes could barely see who it was, but you could just figure it out on your own anyways.

“Hello Remy.” You spoke to the dark hallway

Remy held the card between his pointer and middle finger, then spinning it between his other fingers. He took one step towards you, just barely being lit by the light of the moon through the window.

“My chérie what’s wrong?” Remy spoke with a smile, putting a hand over your shoulder as he pulled you along for a walk down the hall

“Nothing Remy. I’m just fine.”

“My ange I think differently. Let ol’ Gambit talk it out with you.”

You could never object to Remy’s kindness to you. He was the one who found you that day, trapped in a cell with nothing but a bucket and pieces of bones from any sort of meat. Everyone treated you with the utmost kindness. Scott and Logan kinda felt like your older brothers, sweet but also stubborn. Jean, Storm, and Rouge were like aunts to you, kind but never getting in the way as a “parent” like Scott did. Maybe that’s just because their baby hadn’t been born yet and he was so worried about a young mutant like you. But Remy… Remy was different. Remy was there on your darkest days, your companion through the nightmares, especially at nights like these.

“Alright let’s talk then.”

“That’s it ma princesse. Let your dear Gambit hear what you’re thinking about.”

You sat on the edge of his bed as Remy walked around and went straight the bathroom, winking at you before closing the door behind him. Well, that’s Remy for ya. But here’s the thing… you don’t even have to ask what anyone is thinking… you already know.

“My dulcinée… what are you thinking about?” You hear as Remy opens the door to reveal himself with nothing but his pink crop top and boxers on

“Remy!”

You sat up, coving your eyes because you were raised to be decent for people. Taking one step away towards the door, you couldn’t dare look at someone, especially Remy, like this.

“Mon amour where do you think you’re going?”

Remy followed you, grabbing your wrist as he pulls you back and spins you around so he’s against the door and you’re more inside his room. Remy, without a second to spare, locks the door with a smile on his face, his eyes scanning you up and down as if he was going to pounce on you that second.

“Remy I-“

Being much taller than you are, and able to pick you up easily, Remy walked up and pushed you down onto his bed, watching you as you stared into his crimson-black eyes. You scooted away, trying to crawl off onto the other side, but Remy was faster, practically jumping onto you and keeping you there, trapped under him. You couldn’t move, your body felt paralyzed as you looked into Remy’s adoring eyes. You always had a feeling about him… but you could never place what it was, that is, until now.

“Do you know what I’m thinking Ma Belle?”

“N-no Remy I-i don’t.”

Your words were honest, you truly did not wish to peek into Remy’s mind right now as he had you trapped under him, on his bed, half undressed already. With his one hand on your hip to keep you there, his other went to the side of your face, caressing it as he stared into your eyes, looking for something in them.

“Well darling I’m surprised you didn’t already look. Gambit’s been having some thoughts about you since he told Rouge to fuck off.”

If your face was red, you could feel it and Remy could see it. He knew what he was doing. But at the same time, what was he saying?

“You see my dear, once I realized Rouge would gladly leave your sweet and loving Gambit for some old prick, I decided to move on from her.”

His eyes stayed onto yours as he grabbed both sides of your hips, now turning to push your head down onto his pillows. His grip was hard, almost needy. Grabbing one of yours hands with his, he continued to look into your eyes, even as he brought your hand up to kiss it.

“Now looking back on it… I’m glad I did. Rogue could never compare to what I feel when I’m around you.”

“Remy…”

“Ma Belle you are everything I want, and even if Gambit can’t decide what he wants sometimes, he knows he wants you.”

Remy broke eye contact lifting himself up a little to look at you from head to toe once more, before burying his face in the crook of your neck. His body gently laid onto yours, keeping you there in his arms and trapped under him. Even if this was a trap… did you truly want to leave him when he’s right here, willing to love you when you’ve wanted it for so long already?

“Remy do you… is this a fling or are you serious?” You asked

Remy’s head perked up, staring down at you once more. He looked confused, as if you just asked him the hardest question ever in his life.

“My déesse there is no one that could ever make me feel the way you make me feel. I adore you… I treasure you… and I don’t want anyone else to have you. Not any of the other men here. Not anyone. Just me.”

Remy gripped onto your hand tightly, as if you were going to leave and never come back. His eyes searched yours for an answer.

“I want you… I’ve always wanted you my ange.”

You didn’t even have to think twice before sitting up and wrapping your other arm around Remy’s neck, pulling him closer.

“I love you Remy.”

“And I you my angel.”

Remy didn’t hesitate to let go of the grip on your hip, holding himself up as he moved closer to your face, staring at your lips. But he didn’t do anything, waiting for you to say those words he needed to hear as well.

“Chérie I… as much as I want it… I want to know if you want it too. Gambit doesn’t wanna force you to do anything you-“

You leaned up slightly feeling lips touch yours for a quick second, then moving your head to the side to show him your neck.

“I want it Remy… I want you.”

He quickly yanked off his shirt that had barely put it on a few minutes ago. Who cares? As long as Remy gets what he wants right?

“You are so beautiful my sweet.” He whispered as he started to help you take off your top, staring at your chest with wide eyes

Remy, being Remy, just kept his eyes there for a little longer than he should’ve, almost forgetting the best part of what was in front of him. It was hard to look away as he helped take off your bottoms and left you in nothing but your underwear as well. There was silence as you both looked each other in the eye, waiting for one of you to do something.

“Sweet god you are so perfect to me.”

He wasted no time, letting you move your hands to his back while he moved his face to the side of your neck. His breath was warm, yet shaky. He seemed… confused.

“Remy is this-“

“Ya. It is my dear. And… yours as well?”

You nodded. So at least both of you were willing and wanting to be each others first. You moved one hand to go behind Remy’s head, pushing down to his mouth on your neck. Then he seemed to understand where to start. One bite was all it took for Remy to start losing himself.

“Fuuuucckkkk Ma Chérie you taste so good.” Remy groaned as he pushed you deeper into his pillows, biting almost every inch of your neck as possible

“R-Remy I- fuck. Ah~”

Remy was practically laying on you at this point, and you could feel his erection through his boxers and your panties.

“My beauty you are so- fuck- sweet to me.”

Remy leaned back, staring at you as you felt your hands go for the waistband of his boxers. He shuffled a little so you could pull them down, seeing his cock pop out. He was big, but then again you’ve never seen another man’s dick before. He pulled yours down as well, flinging them over his shoulder and onto some part of the floor.

“I… how is this supposed to-“

No hesitation from Remy and he had you pushed back, putting all his weight onto you as he crushed you with his body and his lips on yours. He was hungry, and he was hungry for you. Here you were, finally in his arms and so ready to get fucked by him. Remy was shaking with need and want, holding himself back from unleashing all his feral energy into you.

“Fuck me my dear you are so sweet on my tongue.”

Your tongues fought for a few seconds, hands moving just to hold each other closer in such need and want of each other. After a couple more bites on your neck, Remy looked down to see your cute little hole wet and needy. He didn’t even have to prep you and you were already wet at all of the things going on with you two.

“F-fuck my dear I want to push it in so bad. Tell me you want it. Tell my you want me.” He growled in your ear

“I want it… I want you Remy. Please Remy I want you so badly.” You whined, practically moaning it out loud for everyone in the mansion to hear

With one hand holding onto his cock, the other set right next to your head as he carefully put the tip up to your entrance.

“This will hurt a little my dear. Don’t worry I’m here.”

With very little effort, the tip of his cock was past your entrance. You bit back the moans daring to escape, making sure nobody else could hear you two fucking just down the hall. Remy didn’t look any better, panting like a dog in heat and ready to fuck his mate. He wanted you, slowly going deeper as you sucked him in.

“Ah my darling you feel s-so good.”

It took a little bit of time, but eventually Remy was fully seated inside you and ready to go. Remy was losing himself in you, but it’s not like you were both feeling uncomfortable with each other. Being in this position with Remy just felt… right.

“I-I’m gonna go my dear.”

One pump out had you wanting him back in. One pump in and Remy had you screaming for more. Slowly, Remy waited for you to adjust to him, holding back whatever he was wanting to do to you.

“F-faster” you begged him

Remy had you moaning and pleading for him in a matter of minutes. Maybe you always did love Remy, you were just too much into denial to listen to yourself.

“Gods be damn my love you feel so-“

Remy’s inner mind snapped, staring down at you as he grabbed both wrists and pulled them over your head and pined them there. Remy’s hands wandering, going straight for your chest and grab at your tits.

“F-fuck Ma Chérie you really know how to take my cock don’t you? Is this what you’ve been wanting this whole time? Waiting for me to be alone with you and fuck your brains out? Huh? Oh yeah you feel so good.”

Remy started to ramble, letting his mind speak freely about everything he felt about you. You didn’t care, Remy made you feel good and you were happy to be making him feel good.

“Ma Belle you’re gonna- make me- ah~”

Remy was starting to get sloppy, and you were feeling a coil in your stomach build.

“Fuck yes my dear I can feel you. I can feel you squeezing my cock, wanting me to cum. Is that what you want?”

His voice was taunting you, as if knowing you’ve had feelings for him for ages. All you could do was nod, no words able to come out aside from screaming Remy’s name and any profanities that came to your head.

“Y-yes my darling. Oh yeah I’m gonna cum inside and that way, everyone will know I’m the only one who gets this. I’m the only one who gets you. Nobody can have you, and I’ll make sure of it.”

Remy had a few more to go, he was waiting for you. Feeling the coil about to snap, you screamed Remy’s name as you felt it break.

“O-oh yeah I’m cumming Ma Chérie… Ma Belle… I’m cumming inside. Fuckkk-“

And with one final thrust, Remy spilled inside you, shaky breaths coming out of both of you as you came down from your highs.

“Fuck. That felt… so good.” Remy spoke before collapsing next to you

You felt the cum spilling out of you, not caring that Remy’s bed was now smelling like the two of you. Remy pulled you close to him, your back pressing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you protectively. You felt so drained from this whole endeavor with him, you might as well pass out right then and there.

“Sleep well my angel. Dont worry… I’m going to make sure nobody gets in the way of our love… not even our friends.”

You felt the grip on you tighten a little, Remy not willing to let you go at all.

“I’ll do anything for you… my sweet… I love you.”

A/N: I’m sorry if it sucked I’ll get better. This is literally the first smut I’ve ever written so uh… yeah I hope you enjoyed 😅

[alastor-simp]

Alastor with a female reader who is Selectively Mute Part 3

❥Summary: A certain overlord intrudes on both you and Alastor. This situation is going to become very tense, once you realized who exactly this is.

❥Tags: Selectively mute reader, fluff, fluff and romance, friends to lovers, demi-romantic alastor, alastor frowns, vox being vox, alastor is not used to feelings, comedy, alastor and vox rivalry, spoilers of episode 2, protective alastor, confessing feelings, fem reader.

❥Notes: This is the final chapter of this series. I hope you all enjoyed it :).

"Well well well, if it isn't the Radio Demon." You felt Alastor tense, and the static in the air began to increase. Turning around, you noticed there was another demon standing behind the both of you. He stood as tall as Alastor, sporting a dark blue tuxedo and large red bow tie. The most striking thing on him was his head. It resembled a tv screen. On the screen was a pair of striking red eyes and blue colored teeth. His eyes were filled with immense hate, while sporting a cocky grin.

Alastor slowly turned around, smile strained immensely on his face, which you noticed. Did Alastor know this man? "Ah! If it isn't Vox! The piece of shit television himself?" Alastor snarled back at the TV, teeth sharpening the more he spoke. Ohhh this was Vox! You never saw what he looked like, but you knew about the rivalry between him and Alastor, especially since you heard Alastor mention him in his last broadcast. He was part of a group called the Vee's, which consisted of overlords Valentino, Velvette and Vox. The only Vee you knew about fully was Valentino since he was Angel's boss and you really didn't like him. Vox's eye twitch at Al's insult, but the grin was still present on his face. "HAHAHA! Even after 7 years, you still remained an a**hole. Took you a while to show your ugly face back here. Finally decided to join my team?" He approached closer, arms crossed in front of him, as his eyes were locked on Al, ignoring you. Al's head flew back in laughter, before it snapped back into place, as he let out, "HA! No!"

The both of them were locked in a stare off, with the sounds of static and whirring penetrating the air around you, making you a tad bit nervous. Soon Vox broke the stare, and turned to look at you, eyes widen a tad in shock, before they gazed at you, sensually. "My my! Quite a looker, aren't you! May I know your name, sweetie?” His clawed hand had grabbed yours, as he was leaning down to give it a peck. It felt like a hole had opened inside your stomach. Something about the way he acted made you very uncomfortable. You were use to actions like this from Alastor, as they made your heart skip a beat, but coming from Vox, you didn't like it. A small growl was heard next to you, and another clawed hand had grabbed Vox's wrist, removing his hand from yours. "It is quite rude to touch a lady without her consent, you know! So, H̶̱̞̗͈̮͛̓̔̄͐̉a̴̯̜̗̝̠̰͌̈̋̚͝ͅn̸̖̝͙̜̩̳͆͋̿̃ͅd̸̡̤̅̈̐́̎̐̕s̵̭̀̏͛͐̅ ̷̡̢̩͉͔͍̹̐̃̉͌́̕͠ȍ̸̳̗̰̻͚͔͎͒̄ff̵̘̻̠̗̏̆̚." Radio dials flashed on Al's face, along with his shadow demons poking out a different corners, ready to strike. Scoffing, Vox just pulled his hand away, annoyed that Al had the nerve to touch him, before wearing a sinister grin.

"Heh! Who is the little hottie? A new toy for you to mess with?" Now that pissed you off. You were about to start typing your response on your phone, but Alastor had spoken for you. "She is none of your concern! Now, I believe its time for the both of us to head back! Hope you have an unpleasant evening, Vox!" Al wrapped an arm around you again, ready to leave, but he was stopped by a very loud cackle. "HAHAHAHAHA! Oh this is rich! You running away again?!" He was hunched over, holding his stomach from laughter. Your eyes looked over at Al. His smile was completely strained, to the point of it almost breaking. He was trying very hard to maintain his composure, and not rip off Vox's head, but Al didn't want you to see that side of him, his true side that bathed in carnage and gore, while he danced on the corpses of the demons he slaughtered. Alastor had developed a soft spot for you during his time at the hotel. He hated it immensely, that the more he conversed with you, the more vulnerable he got. He was the radio demon, the most feared demon in hell, who broadcasted the deaths of many overlords to all the residents of hell, but you are able to change him, so he made a vow to himself that he would protect you and help you whenever you were under distress. Last thing he wanted to see from you was your eyes gazing at him in fear, after witnessing his true self.

Vox had finished his laugh session, before he stood back, placing his hands on his hips. "I figured after seven years of disappearing, you would be back to terrorizing the streets, but instead your acting like a little pu✪✪✪ bit✪✪, doing absolutely nothing! You have become such a fossil that barely anyone even remembers you, but they remember me, they always do, since I AM ONE OF THE V-SMACK!" Vox's speech was caught off by a strong slap to his screen face, stunning him a bit, before turning back to look at the both of you. Alastor was gazing at you in shock, not expecting that reaction from you, and slapping Vox across the face. Your face was red with anger, and he could almost see steam coming out of your ears. Grabbing your phone, you began to speed type what you wanted to say to Vox, before turning it towards him, voice speaker volume at full blast:

"𝙾𝙼𝙶 𝙳𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙷𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝚄✪✪ 𝚄𝙿!!?!? 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚃𝙾 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝚄𝙻𝚃 𝙷𝙸𝙼 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂?! 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝙳�����𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝙼𝙽 𝙱𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂, 𝚂𝙾 𝙵𝚄✪✪ 𝙾𝙵𝙵!!!!"

Vox was put off a bit by your strange method of responding back, but he shook his head and began to walk closer, peering down at you. "You crazy bit✪✪!! Do you know who I am?! His response earned an eyeroll from you, as you continued to type what you wanted to say:

"𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎! 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝! 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚝, 𝚏𝚞✪✪-𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎! 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜, 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝-𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚗𝚘, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖? 𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙷𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚜𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝!"

Vox's eyes widen, as he stepped back at what you said, stunned. "I'm...I'm not......I don't..." He fumbled with his words, unable to give a good comeback. Alastor continued to gaze down at you in awe, wondering where this side of you has been. Typing a final message, you played it out for him:

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊✪✪ 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏! 𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚒𝚖𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜!

Grabbing Al's hand, you pulled it and began walking back in the direction you were going, leaving behind an open-mouth Vox, screen flashing to blue, as his brain couldn't compute that he just got owned. Alastor said nothing, and followed after you, as the both of you continued to walk back to the hotel. The walk was silent, neither you nor Alastor uttered a word to each other. Arriving at the doors to the hotel, you let Al's hand go, knowing that the others would ask questions if they saw the both of you holding hands. Entering inside, you were greeted by the others, asking how was the show and yada yada. You gave a thumbs up, while Al gave a lengthy response saying that the performance was spectacular. Alastor then urgently insisted that he needed to attend something, before snapping his fingers, disappearing from sight.

He hadn't looked at you the whole time, when the both of you came back. Had you upset him? He didn't appear angry when the both of you started to head back, but maybe he was hiding it from you. Thinking back to what you did, you realized that you maybe shouldn't have done that. Alastor was a powerful demon, the fearful gazes he got from others was proof of that. He was fully capable of defending himself against Vox, he didn't need you to do it for him. Your body wanted to head to where Alastor ran off to, but you decided not to, as he maybe needed time to cool off.

**12:00 AM**

It had finally reached midnight, and you had seen no trace of Alastor. He wasn't present for dinner nor did he return to the lobby. Heaving a sigh, you realized that you must have angered him very badly. You hoped you would see him tomorrow and apologize. Exiting your bathroom, you had finished brushing your teeth and put on your apple themed PJs, a gift from Charlie. Heading over to the bed, you took a sit on the fluffy covers, before falling back, cell phone planting on the bed as well. Too many emotions and thoughts were floating around in your head, preventing you from falling asleep. "Knock knock", a soft knocking noise was heard against your door. Getting up from your bed, along with grabbing your phone, you peeked into the peep hole, to see Alastor standing on the other side. Unlocking the door, you softly opened it. "Good evening, my dear! Sorry if I had disturbed your rest, but there is something I needed to discuss with you." His smile was still enlarged as always, but you couldn't tell if he was back to normal or still enraged. It was so hard to read him at times. Nodding your head, you moved your body to allow him in. He walked inside, standing at the center of your room, with his hands placed behind his back. He didn't turn around to face you, making you feel nervous. Suddenly, sounds of static-filled laughter erupted from him, causing you to jump up in shock.

Alastor turned to face you, still laughing with slight tears in his eyes. "Oh, apologies for the sudden laughter, but your little confrontation with Vox was highly entertaining, my dear! In all my years in hell, I have never seen that expression from him! HAHAHA! What a sight!" Alastor was still giggling with glee, wiping his eyes, that were leaking with tears. The laughing quickly stopped when he saw the look on your face, tears streaming down. Panicking, Al walked closer, wondering why you were crying. Pulling your phone up, fingers shakingly typing your message to Al"

𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙸…..𝙸

Unable to type, due to how hard your hands were shaking, you dropped your phone, hands flying to your face, wiping away at your tears. Alastor was silent, having not said a word after you dropped your phone. Two hands had grabbed yours, pulling them away from your face, allowing your eyes to look up at Al's. His expression was soft, wearing a small grin. "Why would you think I was angry with you, my dear?" His voice had dropped into a soft whisper, containing no traces of static. You casted your eyes down, still feeling ashamed. "Y/N. Look at me." Goosebumps appeared all over your body. He almost never addressed you by your full name. Peering back into his red irises, you looked straight at him. His eyes always held so much emotion, and the emotion you saw was pure warmth. His fingers wiped at your cheeks, cleaning the tears "I was never upset with you. Frankly, I was quite in awe at what you did. You defended me without hesitation and even called me a "friend." It has been many centuries since someone has addressed me that way, that it stunned me to my very core. Please don't cry, my dear. Tears don't suit your adorable face."

He rubbed your cheeks up and down like you were a cat. His sweet words felt like they were caressing your skin, causing shivers to flow through your body. Alastor leaned forward, placing his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "You....you are quite a special one, aren't you. Being with you makes me feel things I thought had died long ago. Only time I felt anything like this was when my mother was still alive. These things....these feelings are changing me, you are changing me. Part of me wants to push them away, but the other part of me wants to embrace them, embrace this." His everlasting smile had dropped, causing your eyes to widen. He was frowning!! Alastor, the demon who always wore a smile, was frowning?! This was the real Alastor in front of you now, not the radio demon persona. Rubbing his forehead against yours, Al opened his eyes, staring back at you.

The both of you stayed in that position until Alastor spoke again, "All of this...is entirely new to me, my dear. But, I want to explore more of this with you. What say you, Y/N? Would you like for this to become something more?" The butterflies in your stomach were going haywire, as the color of your cheeks dyed a deep red. Alastor wanted to be with you? Have a relationship more than this? Your thoughts were filled with all of the moments the both of you had. The pleasant conversations, the sweet gestures and the looks he would give you. The answer was clear to you. Wanting to grab your phone, you realized you had dropped it, making you unable to tell Alastor your answer. No no. You didn't need the phone. Feelings of nervousness began to overtake you, as you bit your lip. Alastor noticed your expression, and pulled back.

"I'm sorry, my dear. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I'll take my leave. We can discuss this another time." Alastor's smile had come back, but it seemed almost somber. Shaking your head, you didn't want him to leave without hearing what you had to say. Clenching your fists, you took a deep breath. Grabbing his coat, you pulled him down, back to your level. Alastor bent down. letting out a small gasp, not expecting your actions. Before he could speak, a pair of lips had attached to his. His crimson eyes widen in shock, his body becoming tense. His mind slowly began to piece together that you were kissing him. It left him shook, but he slowly eased into it, reciprocating back. The kiss lasted for a full minute, before you pulled away, and stared at Al. Biting your lip again, baring through the anxious emotions, you opened your mouth.

"I-I love you Alastor. I-I want to be t-together with you"

Alastor nearly gasped, legs almost buckling from what just happened. Did you just speak?!?!?!? You had spoken for the first time, in front of him. Your voice was so precious and soft, almost like an angel. His eyes sparkled with excitement, as he grabbed you by the waist, spinning you around in joy. Grabbing on to him, you let out a small chuckle, at his reaction. The spinning slowly stopped, as Al set you back down, placing his gloved hand on your pink-tinted cheek. His own face was similar to yours, flustered, yet he was wearing a love-struck expression. "I-I adore you as well, my doe." Seems it was still difficult for him to say I love you, but you were content with that. Alastor then leaned in to kiss your forehead, as he pulled back. "I believe it is past our bedtimes, my doe. I must, unfortunately head back to my quarters, but I will be here first thing in the morning." Listening to him, you nodded your head, letting out a soft "okay". Patting your head, he wished you pleasant dreams, as he made his way to your door, exiting your room. Watching him leave, you walked to the door, and placed a hand on it, before you turned around. Sliding your body down, you placed a hand on your chest as you gave a love struck sigh. It was official, both you and Al were going to be more than just friends. It made you nervous, but so excited at the same time. Getting up from your position on the floor, you went over to your bed, placing your head on the pillow. Grabbing the other across from you, you planted your face into it, squealing while kicking your feet in joy.

**Alastor POV**

Having left your room, Alastor still stood at your door, back facing it. Letting out a shaky sigh, he placed his back against it, letting his head fall back against it. His emotions were springily like crazy. All of this was still so new to him. His memory flashed back to what he said to you, annoyed that he couldn't say the three simple words, but he remembered the smitten look on your face, happy with that he said. The black heart in his chest was still beating a mile a minute, and his cheeks were still flaming hot. Sighing again, he moved from his position and walked down the hallway to head to his room. Tomorrow was going the be the first day of the both of you being in this kind of relationship, and he honestly couldn't wait.

~END~

Part 1 of Series is Here = X

Part 2 of Series is Here = X

Tagging:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi , @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping , @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @pawstrey , @futureittomainn , @christinaatyourservice92 , @littledolly2345 , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 , @mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow , @madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel , @ainsliemac ,

[mikareo]

“ ࣭⸰ ★ HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU . . . ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ 呪術廻戦 ; gojo satoru x fem reader (1k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ valentine's day is approaching; and with a valentine comes love...or for worse...heartbreak.

contains; gojo satoru x fem reader, angst, mentions of fluff idk, there’s some swearing i think author's note; happy (almost) valentine's,, i’m projecting

1 day, 9 hours, and 47 minutes.

your last conversation wasn't anything out of the ordinary. there was no dry spell. no plateau. no failure to communicate. just you and satoru, plus the typical banter, talking about something as simple as what you were planning on making for dinner; to be more precise, what you were trying to make for dinner. you're a pretty awful cook according to him.

everything seemed to be going so well...really well...almost perfectly well— and with valentine's day right around the corner, you'd instinctively assumed that he'd ask you to be his. instinct is a difficult emotion, though. is it even an emotion? you're not quite sure, but your heart believes it is. your heart— which is practically pounding out of your chest at the current moment, stretching your skin, eager to feel the limitless fresh air and freedom that comes with floating on cloud 9— instinctively wants to believe satoru is your soulmate. you love him don't you? is the answer yes? it should be no.

you've known him for...what? four months? four months of your twenty years of life is seemingly small. that's only one point six-seven percent of your entire lifetime...one point six-seven percent of your life that you wish you could relive forevermore.

...he isn't going to text you back is he?

2 days, 2 hours, and 15 minutes.

each second passing is another flicker of hope that misses the candle wick. instead of lighting the path that leads to your eventual relationship, it lights a fire beneath your feet. your socks feel warm. there's coal beneath them. hot, burning coal withering away the sense of feel in your toes; breathing in the aroma of heartbreak until it becomes a roaring fire that consumes all of you.

why is he doing this? what did you do wrong? you haven't done anything wrong. he's just a man. a man who can't seem to stop playing with your heart.

you can hear his voice in the back of your mind. the part of your mind that connects to your heart. "can you facetime, right now? i'm having a bad day and i just want to see your face." he had to have meant that. "you don't need to apologize for talking over me, i love hearing what you have to say." a guy wouldn't just say that to say that. "don't be too hard on yourself, i know you'll figure everything out becuase you're you. you always know what to do." it couldn't have all been bullshit.

it can't have been bullshit.

because if that's all it was, then you're just a fool in love.

and fools in love are no better than clowns.

3 days, 14 hours, and 22 minutes.

you did what you hate doing. the thing that makes you want to scream into your pillow at the mere thought. the very thing that screams desperation and neediness and clinginess and insecurity all in one. you sent another message.

in the past, you've never had feelings strong enough to elicit such a response. your heart hasn't tied itself to another person's with a red satin bow. the fated string of fate hadn't found you yet. it allowed you to maintain a stable head and remain grounded with no hopes of love on your radar. you hadn't yet learned how to fly; until that day you met satoru and suddenly you had a hundred pilot lessons lined up day-after-day.

it was so easy being with him. everything was so easy.

for the first time ever you had no doubts. you weren't afraid of waking up one morning to find him gone. disappeared. nonexistent. you full-heartedly believed he'd never leave; and you believed he reciprocated those thoughts. now, though...now you may never know what bits and pieces he reciprocated— because your plane crashed. turbulence flew beneath the wings and drove the flight off course. the oxygen masks bellowed down upon the passengers, every seat being filled with your pounding heartbeats, and each and every one of them blew out of the window with no parachute. he didn't even try to cushion the fall.

4 days, 1 hour, and 39 minutes.

if there's one message you never expected to receive, it's surely 'seen 14 hours ago'.

you'd given him space and assumed he'd been busy with a million other things and hadn't had any time to send you a quick message. your last text wasn't even anything out of the ordinary, just a quick "are you okay?", you think that's pretty reasonable. it's reasonable, isn't it?

something could be seriously wrong with him. why else would he leave you on read? he's never done this before. usually, you're the one who's more distant between the two of you. that's how your relationship began, after all. he'd send five texts in comparison to your two; which later evolved into five rivaling five, and now to zero rivaling two. the scales have tipped. how do you rebalance them?

you trust satoru. there must be a perfectly good explanation for this odd irregularity that's occurring in your otherwise perfect relationship. after all, all of your friends love him— they think he's the greatest catch of the 21st century. he's never done anything in the past to warrant such strange behavior. this is simply a difficult week for him...and you'll be there whenever he's ready to vent.

5 days, 22 hours, and 7 minutes.

a broken heart isn't for the weak...but unfortunately, you're not one of the stronger warriors.

he's at another girl's birthday party. he hasn't messaged you back in almost six days...and he's with another girl? celebrating her? he could be holding her close and you wouldn't even know, because god knows he wouldn't tell you. he won't even say good morning anymore. he won't even answer your fucking three word message that you sent out of desperation and concern for his well being. instead, he's at the club with his friends, getting drunk and taking shots, having the time of his life; and you're sitting in your room watching his social media stories...believing that everything that went wrong is all your fault.

but it's not your fault.

it's not your fault you fell for someone like that.

someone like satoru gojo.

[lilac-5ky]

i wanna tie the knot (Satoru xFem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Forget me not

Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests | AO3

Plot: Your boyfriend takes you on a romantic getaway that will potentially change the rest of your lives.

Themes: MDNI, Established Relationship, Vacation, Teasing, Bickering, Tooth-rotting Fluff, Comedy, Onsen Smut, Sensory Deprivation (bondage and blindfolds), Breeding Kink, Oral (f. receiving), Multiple Orgasms, Yukatas, Snarky!Fem!Reader who is done with Gojo's Shenanigans but loves him regardless, Soft!Dom Gojo, Unsolicited Digimon References, and Bucketloads of Pet Names (baby, princess, bunny, honeypie, sugarplum, and every other food nickname you can think of)

Word Count: 13.3k (i was inspired, sue me. rest of it will be smaller. i think.)

check a/n at the bottom

“Last one up the hill is a loser!” Those were the parting words you left your boyfriend with before you shot in the direction of the fields, wind in your hair and pollen in the air, Satoru’s voice barely audible over the light chuckle you shed behind.

You sprint across a sea of flowers in every shape, hue, and kind—from exuberant red poppies to bashful pink asters—spanning as far as the eye can see. You want nothing more than to spare a moment and halt; breathe into the combined aroma of the autumn blossoms before winter hushes them for good, but you can’t. The faster you run, the smaller his head becomes, until it’s a mere blotch of white on the faraway horizon.

You rest assured in your victory, a breathless smile forming on your lips as you reach the top. You glance over your shoulder, confident that the man who minutes ago (literally) flew you to Ikoma on another of his spontaneous 2-day trips is still there, lamenting ever giving you a headstart. However, no matter how hard you squint, you cannot seem to find him.

“What are we looking at?” A low-pitched voice scares the wits out of you, hummed near the shell of your ear in a way that’s exclusive to the cheeky tone it carries.

“S-Satoru!” You yelp, almost throwing yourself down the stiff slope.

“Satoru?” The man in question repeats his own name, cocking his head to the side with genuine curiosity. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“What are you—”

“I only know of a winner,” he points at his chest, successfully diverting your attention from the hand that rises to flick your forehead with such force that you stagger backward.

Both your fall and his punchline are postponed, one awaiting the other while you’re left floating mid-air, the infinity between your head and his boot serving as a safety net.

“And a loser.” Satoru concludes, his grin as bright as day, when he retracts his foot and lets you plummet into the fluffy flowerbed.

In the time it takes for you to blow a tuft of hair from your eyes and prop yourself onto your elbows, Satoru’s already taken his phone out and snapped as many pictures as humanely possible. You aren’t fazed. You’re used to his constant leg-pulling, as well as his 8895-picture collection of funny faces you’ve made over the course of your 7-year relationship.

Definitely in the 9000s now.

“Most guys would help their girlfriend up instead of calling her a loser.” You frown.

“Most guys wouldn’t date a slowpoke.” He gleefully chimes, zooming in on your face. “Come on. Smiiile.”

You poke your tongue out, and he snaps what is hopefully the last embarrassing frame of the day. Your frown resumes, downturned mouth and eyes narrowed at the wonderful azure sky.

“Good enough. Here, here.” He offers you his hand. “Don’t go crying on me.”

You accept only to give him a taste of his own medicine as you lock fingers and drag him down. He shouldn’t fall, but he does so anyway, collapsing beside you in a bundle of ridiculously long limbs he either sorts behind his head or splays on the grass surrounding him.

“Can’t believe you actually got me.” Satoru says in a pouty voice that goes against the complacent smile sitting on his lips. Idiot. “Woah, the view is much prettier from down here!” He marvels at the drifting clouds, pointing at one that resembles a duck. “Is this what it feels like to be you?”

You could do without his unnecessary comments spoiling the mood, but you’re willing to overlook them for the sake of your trip. With how hectic these past three weeks were—orchestrated curse attacks ping-ponging both him and his students across Tokyo—you doubted you’d have a moment to yourselves for the remainder of the year.

But keeping him on his toes is too much fun to pass up.

“You’d be more likeable if you weren’t such a showoff, Satoru.” You scoff, no malice whatsoever.

“Oh, really? ‘Cause I thought you liked me sooo much when you were going all oh, Satoru! Love it so much, Satoru! You’re the best, Satoru! Deeper, Satoru! Y-yes, just like that, ‘Toru last night.”

“Shut up!”

You plug his mouth with both hands, though that doesn’t discourage him from blabbing his version of last night’s events, perfectly replicating the breathy tone of your voice and the soft little moans you let out in between his frantic thrusts.

Your palms relocate to cover your ears, the bright color of your cheeks soon becoming a focal point for his mockery. Satoru plucks a crimson cosmos flower and holds it to your face, twirling it around until you rip it from his grasp. Regret washes over you as soon as you unfold your fingers and see the now-crumpled petals, a little piece of the universe laying lifeless in your palm.

“I’m surprised you can still see my face behind that thing.” You point at the dark fabric that conceals his eyes. “How many fingers am I holding up?” You wave your hand in his face, constantly alternating between the number of fingers you flex.

Satoru catches your wrist and decisively intertwines your fingers. “I see enough to know you look the cutest when you’re annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed.” You declare.

“Are you sure?” His voice is deliberately sultry as he inches closer.

Flakes of color adorn his icy strands like confetti, a stark contrast to the murky blue of his two-piece uniform. You can feel his eyes—those lovely crystal orbs of his—burning holes through the blindfold to meet yours, and in this instant, when his minty breath ghosts over your lips and promises a kiss, you’re absolutely enamored by him.

That is, until he begins poking into your cheeks like a woodpecker, and your desire to strangle the life out of him overtakes the urge to give in.

“Okay! You did it! I’m—”

Before you can finish your sentence, his lips crash into yours, a stolen peck that lasts no longer than the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings, a soft fumble that leaves you craving for more. “Definitely annoyed.” Satoru flashes a boyish smile as he ruffles your hair and pulls you to your feet with him, his hand carrying you through a path of marigolds.

“Can you… just… slow… down?” You pant out, struggling to follow after his long strides.

But he doesn’t falter.

“Better get moving before you evolve into a Slowbro.” He sing-songs.

“Knock it off! I’m at least Jigglypuff tier.”

“Hmm,” he considers out loud. “I wouldn’t go as far as to call you useless, but—”

“Satoru!” You protest. “And I thought you liked Digimon.”

“Doesn’t hurt to know about the cheaper rip-off.”

“Pretty sure that’d be Digimon.”

“And I’m pretty sure even a regular Greymon beats your mascot into a pulp.” He beams.

Sigh.

You roll your eyes, letting him argue with himself about Digimon’s supremacy, until you reach a pool of flowers—myriad befallen fragments of the sky reflecting the vibrant blue of his eyes. You break free from his grasp and kneel among the blossoms, your fingertips skimming across the pointed petals with great care.

“Oh my God, Satoru! You know what this is?”

“Flowers…?” He changes his answer to pretty flowers upon your glaring.

“It’s forget-me-nots!”

The name doesn’t seem to ring a bell. He looks at you with the stupefied expression of a cattle who only knows how to moo and eat grass, invisible question marks spawning around his head.

“Their blooming period ends in May,” you explain. “Can’t believe we’d find some in October, and these—” You chop one of the stems and extend it to him. “These are so beautiful.”

Satoru glances between the flowers and your impressionable eyes, in which tiny stars seem to twinkle, his tone serious as he points out, “You must really love me.”

Your mouth hangs while you mull over your own words. Nope. Nothing you said remotely hints at the conclusion he alone reached.

“About time you showed me some respect.” Satoru huffs. “Don’t know about the royalty part, but—ah, it really can’t be helped. I’ll accept them if you insist.”

“Hold on a second.” His fingers close around a fistful of nothing as you retract your hand. “What respect, what royalty are you talking about?”

“Hm? You really don’t know?” You shake your head, and he brings out his phone, trading it for the flowers. “Says it all riiiight here.” He taps at the wall of text that lights up his screen.

Forget-me-not, also known as Myosotis flower, represents true love and respect and is an indisputable symbol of royalty. To King Henry IV—

“Tsk, these don’t even smell.” Satoru exclaims once he presses them to his nose.

“Not all flowers smell.” You turn off the screen and hand his phone back to him. “Your ability to google stuff and sell it as common trivia never ceases to amaze me.”

He lowers the stem to his lap and looks at you. Or so you think. You really can’t tell when he’s wearing that thing. “And? What do you make of it?”

“You just want to hear me say it, don’t you?” Your hands slide across his shoulders, fingers knitting behind his neck. “I love you, you silly, goofy, pervert specimen of a man.” You smile softly. “And I do respect you—sometimes—but best case scenario, you become prime minister. Better get that royalty idea out of your brain.”

“Not even if a mysterious big-scale accident takes all royalty on this planet out?” Satoru quips.

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me already.”

The sharp edges of his grin dissolve as he tilts his head enough for your lips to meet, tentative flicks of his tongue granting him access to your mouth. You feel the hard press of his chest once his arm wraps around your waist, nullifying the barriers that stand between you and the resounding beating of his heart.

There’s no innate technique in the way he touches; no immense amount of cursed energy in the way he kisses. None of the things that make him Gojo Satoru, the sorcerer who is hailed by all—and even himself—as the strongest are there. Only the raw vulnerability of a boy who’s used to carrying the order of the world on his shoulders and on a whim lets it crush him, because when he holds you, none of it seems to matter; because when he’s with you, he’s free to be Gojo Satoru and no more than that.

You watch through heavy eyelashes as he breaks a small stalk and brings it to your hair, securely tucking the flowers behind your ear. Warmth spreads from his slender fingers to your already feverish complexion. His palm cups your cheek, thumb swiping along your jawline with a soft expression perched on his lips, and you find yourself falling in love with him all over again.

“You deserve some love too, my…” Satoru ponders for a second, eventually snapping his fingers, “little MegaDarknessBagramon.”

A chuckle gets caught in your nostrils. “Your what now?”

“MegaDarknessBagramon.” He repeats without stuttering. “Way better than your fairy balloon cat.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Why do I get the feeling you made this one up?”

“Did not! MegaDarknessBagramon is—hmph.”

You cut him off with a fond kiss on his agape lips. That’s the only way to truly shut him up. At least in public.

“We should get going. I wanna go sightseeing before nightfall.”

You wander through the city for hours upon hours, losing yourselves among the countless maple-strewn paths and quaint religious sites of the countryside. Ikoma is a quiet place. No matter how many pebbles you lift or castle ruins you peek under, you won’t find a speck of evil lurking beneath. It’s as if the land is at peace with itself, and the people who tend to it do so without any curse tainting their souls. For once, Satoru’s presence feels redundant.

His hand stays on you the entire time you stroll through the temples and marketplaces, be it as fingers that childishly swing your palm up and down—left and right—or as an arm draped over both your shoulders, stirring you in a different direction whenever his phone rings. And it does ring. A lot. So much that you actively consider flinging it at the bottom of the Sunoura River.

The conversations are rather one-sided. Satoru mhms and uh-uhs his way out of everything the voices on the other line suggest, his expression contorting all the while he mocks Nanami’s grave tone, Yaga’s dismay, and Ijichi’s apprehension. He tries his best to keep you involved—putting Megumi on speaker while the boy informs him of how Nobara gave Yuji a concussion when she mistook him for a pickpocket—and presses playful kisses on your cheek when you unwittingly pout at his neglect.

This is the one drawback of dating such a sought-after man. You have to share him with the rest of the world, and even though you know exactly how many livelihoods depend on him, you selfishly want your boyfriend to yourself.

After his sixth answered call, something inside you snaps. You shake his hand off—he barely pays mind—and fish your phone out of your jacket, dialing the first number in your contact list. My Noodle Man. With a heart emoticon, he, himself, input. Still better than the long array of toothachingly sweet nicknames he’s come up with for you over the years.

Drawing the device away from his ear, Satoru glances at the incoming caller ID and shoots you what ought to be a perplexed look.

“Pick it up!” You mouth the words without voicing them.

The world comes to a standstill while you (presumably) stare into each other’s eyes. Star-shaped leaves rain down from the trees, a minor contribution to the red and gold garb that dresses the once pebbled pathway. It’s all too scenic—if one ignores the busy tone from his phone’s speaker, which echoes wide across the hollow forest, gracelessly interrupting Utahime’s incoherent squeaks.

Are you even listening? Gojo?

“Mhm!” He breaks into an awkward chuckle. “Sounds good to me.”

What? What are you on about, you white-haired swine?

“Hey, how ‘bout you hold onto that, and we talk about it when I return?”

You seriously doubt he knows what that and it are.

Satoru doesn’t leave Utahime the chance to reply, rushing through his words at the speed of light. “Okay, great! Gotta go now. Laterrr, bye, ciao, adieu!”

Don’t you dare hang—

“Too late for that.” He comments, an afterthought that doesn’t reach its target audience before fading into his next received call.

“Baby! How are you?” The grin on his lips is so blinding, you swear it accompanies a halo.

You draw a deep breath, fingernails digging sharply at the tender flesh on the inside of your palm. “Satoru.”

“What is it, baby?” He dares ask as if you haven’t been shooting daggers at him the entire time, arms folded over your chest and eyebrow trembling above your narrowed eye.

“Satoru, the fact that I can only speak to you through the phone is insane!” Your voice climbs up a whole octave over the final word, annoyance interlaced within your tone.

“Huh?” He smiles sheepishly, head drooping to his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, I’m standing right in front of you, begging you for an ounce of attention, and you haven’t put the phone down for ten goddamn seconds since we left the shrine, which, by the way, happened two hours ago!”

His smile dwindles, and you worry you might’ve been too harsh. It’s not like he has a choice. Regular people get to dictate their own fate, filling up their plates with however many or few obligations and freedoms they can stomach. Not Satoru. His share of responsibility was assigned to him at birth, and as aloof as he can be, he’s not the type to let all hell break loose just yet.

“Hey, um—look. If you were busy, we could’ve just taken a rain check and stayed in town. You know I wouldn’t mind holing up at my place, ordering some Chinese, and frying our retinas with another movie marathon. No need to string each other along for—what are you doing?”

Without evidence of anyone or anything approaching, Satoru twists his neck in every direction possible, searching far and wide among the tree foliage and the water streaming on the sides of the walkway, going as far as to check the gap between his own legs. Instinctively, you repeat his routine, glancing over your shoulder when you realize he’s got his eyes on you—not on you, but through you.

“Are you sure you are here? Can’t see you.” Satoru brings the phone to his lips, executing an amateur’s set of jumping jacks while waving his hands around and shouting your name at the top of his lungs, doing his absolute best to appear clueless when he passes you by and uses your head like an armrest. “Don’t tell me you got out-heighted by the trees.”

Are you sure you want to permanently delete the contact My Noodle Man <;3?

Cancel

“I’m leaving.”

You manage exactly two steps before you are halted by two arms whose length smothers you—a proper vice that closes around your shoulders and immobilizes you against what feels like a colossal tree trunk but is your (occasionally) loving boyfriend’s chest.

“Let go, Satoru!” You try to shake him off, but your conviction is about as strong as the frail set of bones he aspires to crush.

“C’mon, you just got here!” Satoru begs, his mouth so close to your ear that you feel his voice shooting straight into your heart, goosebumps erupting down your spine. “Don’t leave, mm? Mm? Pleaaase?”

You groan, dragging your feet forward, but it’s impossible to progress when a well-over-six-foot boulder weighs you down. He’s viciously clinging onto you, nuzzling to your cheeks one at a time, and humming at every kiss he prints on your grimace. His frosty spikes tickle, softer than silk and fluffier than the clouds above.

Couldn’t he have been like this five minutes ago?

“Doesn’t matter if I’m here or not.” Bitterness pools in your mouth from where your teeth bite into your gums. Your voice faint. “You’ll be on your stupid phone, anyway.”

“Is that why you’re acting all upset? You want my attention?” The lack of answer prompts him to continue, a low chuckle setting the mood for what comes next.

“If you want my attention, then… all you have to do is ask for it.”

It’s at this point that you realize more than your upper bodies are touching, his knees slightly bent for his hips to press against your ass—and with them, you feel something else pressing too. Something that oughtn’t be there when all you’ve been doing is bickering and fooling around with each other.

You gulp hard, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. His head rests fully upon the elbow on your shoulder, covered eyes definitely taking in the blush that’s become somewhat of a second nature since you got together. He’s effortlessly seductive, and you’re thankful for both his typically childish demeanor and the blindfold around his forehead, or else you’d be in big trouble denying him.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe what?” Satoru coos in a condescending tone.

You try to look away, but he won’t let you, jaw tilting atop his other arm. There’s no hiding from him, and the stupidly smug smile that begs you to erase it.

“…yes.”

“Yes what? Cheating won’t do. You need to say it.”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who won by teleporting to the finish line,” you mumble.

He doesn’t yield, and you know you’re going to be stuck there for a long time unless you stroke his ego. “Fine. Please gimme your undivided attention, oh grand sorcerer, Gojo Satoru.”

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He croons contentedly. “Now, how much do you want it?”

“I changed my mind. I want a divorce.”

“We need to first be married in order to divorce.” He points out, rubbing salt in your wound like your next reply won’t be “You’re the one who refuses to settle down,” but it’s not. Just this once, you bite back your tongue.

Your restraints loosen as Satoru shakes his phone into your face, demonstrating how the device turns off with a click of his thumb. An airy laughter rings in your ears, and just like that, he reverts to the kind of man who giggles at knock-knock jokes and thinks it’s peak comedy when he mixes gummy worms in your cereal.

“No more calls!” He declares. “For a limited time only, strongest sorcerer Gojo Satoru is at your service.”

You snort, fighting back a smile that ends up crinkling around your eyes. “You make it sound like you’re a genie.”

“Hmm, you could always try rubbing me and see what happens. Might grant you a wish or two.”

You laugh at his attempt to flirt, trying and mostly failing to distract yourself from what was previously pushing against your body. It should embarrass you that two of your two wishes are sexual in nature, but that’s entirely on him, his innuendos, and the raw lust you’ve missed seeing transform his eyes from the sparkling color of the sea to one found a thousand meters under the surface.

Maybe three.

“Where’s the catch?”

“What catch?” He chirps.

“I know you, ‘Toru. With you, there’s always a catch.”

One moment you feel his breath on your skin, and the other you see him standing before you, his arms flexing behind his torso while he tips forward—a toothy grin stretching on his lips.

“Well, a fee is always due where there are services involved.” He takes a page from Mei’s book.

“The Gojo family vault running out of cash, so you lookin’ to extort your girlfriend?” You quip. “Go on. Name your price.”

“Oh, y’know.” His shoe traces a circle on the ground. “Just you saying what an amazing, handsome, charming, wonderful, funny, kind, and handsome boyfriend you have for the world to hear.”

You browse the acres of trees surrounding you; there is not a soul to be seen or heard within a close radius. What world?

“You said handsome twice.”

“Intentionally.” He deadpans.

You return his playfulness by saying he forgot to add infuriating to the list, even though you’ve already decided to humor him. Cute is more like it.

“My boyfriend is the most—”

“Does your boyfriend have no name? Take it from the top.”

You sigh, “My boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, is the most amazing, handsome, wonderful—”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Satoru intervenes, raising his forefinger in objection. “Forgot charming!”

Your teeth clatter, gritting a growl.

“Only one life left. Better get it right this time or,” he draws an imaginary line across his neck, faking a choking sound as he’s supposedly decapitated.

With both hands around your mouth, you shape a cone and shout so loudly that countless birds betray their hiding spots between the tree branches as they pour out into the sky. “My boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, is the most amazing, handsome, charming, wonderful, funny, kind, and handsome again, boyfriend in existence who totally didn’t put me up to this!” In a quiet voice, “Happy now?”

“Full marks!” He gleefully shoves a thumbs up in your face. “Now I’m all yours and will be for the rest of the night. Feel free to make the best of me while you can.”

“Then, can I get my first wish granted now, Mr. Genie?”

“What is it?”

He stands still as you bring your hands to his face and cup his cheeks, fingers teasing the seams of his blindfold. “Lemme see your eyes.”

“Hmm? You wanna see them? Why—you missed them?”

A nod. “Don’t put me through that same speech again. They are pretty, and yes, I miss them. We haven’t been seeing each other as often, so. C’mon. Lemme see them.”

You try to lower the fabric, but the harder you pull, the more it seems to resist. “Satoru…?”

“Mm?” He licks his lips. “What is it, sugarplum?”

Your eyes roll so far back into your skull that you’re afraid they’ll slip down your esophagus. “I said, I wanna see your eyes. May I?”

He cocks his head in consideration, entertaining an affectionate smile before he denies you with a cheeky little nope!

“Why not?”

This is the first time he denies you.

“For a multitude of reasons.” He states wryly. Uncharacteristically for him.

You wait for an explanation—a slight opening between his lips. His tongue lays flat against his teeth, darting upward as if he’ll finally say something, but he doesn’t. This happens about four times before he sternly announces, “The sun.”

“The sun…?” You glance at the sky, a veil of darkness slowly descending upon the peachy gradients of the melting clouds. “You mean the one that just set?”

“I wasn’t done talking. My other reason is…” He motions for you to get closer. You lean in as instructed, patiently hanging on his lips as if he is about to open the envelope and reveal the name of a talent show winner, yet his answer isn’t any more satisfying than the previous one is. “The people.”

“Satoru, we haven’t seen a live human in over an hour. What are you talking about? And since when were others an issue?”

“You don’t know what it feels like to be me!” Satoru exclaims in an exaggerated tone as he shakes your hands off and turns in the opposite direction. “Having everyone stare at you wherever you go, people asking, Sensei, please! We need to see your wonderful eyes! and getting called Six Eyes like you’re a piece of meat. Should’ve known you wouldn’t be any better than them, Y/N.”

You blink a number of times, “stunned” being too little of a word to describe your surprise at his sudden burst. He always had a knack for the dramatic, but with the way the back of his palm is pressed against his forehead, he’s closer to an Academy Award than ever.

“Satoru.” Your hand moves to his shoulder without ever closing the distance. Damn infinity. “What is up with you today?” You ask half-jokingly, half-concerned. “Acting insecure; you are the one who doesn’t miss the chance to show your eyes off to everyone, and when I ask you to show them, you pull this—why?”

“It’s because I only have eyes for you.” He smirks full of confidence, roughing up your hair and then bringing his thumb below your chin, holding it up for a kiss. You don’t even stop him. Hell, you don’t even close your eyes. You are too baffled to.

You regain agency over your words only after he starts parading away from you, his feet spending more time in the air than they do on land. “Hey, wait! What was that? What does you having eyes only for me have to do with anything?”

His chuckle precedes his answer. “You’ll see when we reach the inn. Last down the foothills is a double loser!”

“Ahhh, that was soooo good! I feel—ugh, reborn!”

Satoru’s joints click as he stretches both arms behind his back and over his head, the striped sleeves of his gray-colored yukata rolling down his elbows. He doesn’t mind that he’s blocking the doorway or that the long face you’ve been sporting since you parted at the lobby threatens to hit the floor at his theatrics.

Your onsen experiences differed by miles. While he was off soaking and splashing by himself at the vacant men’s baths, you were forced to endure 45 excruciating minutes in the company of a group of bachelorettes who wouldn’t shut up about the “dreamy masked man” who booked the single most expensive suite in the compound, rewriting his life story with lewd fantasies that—for as long as you could help it—would remain as such. Unrealized.

“The temperature was just perfect, the right amount of hot without scorching, and the minerals already circulate through my bloodstr—ouch!”

You shove past him and his impromptu review of the hot springs, temporarily giving up on the blockbuster that your mind crafts—Blood Bath: Revenge of the Hot Spring Killer 2—in favor of a spot where you can drop off your toiletries.

The room, or rather, the rooms, are vast in space and rich in furnishing. Opaque sliding doors separate the main area from the wardrobe and the bathroom, drawn to provide a direct view of the ryokan’s rock garden. Tatami mat flooring is indiscriminately strewn, replaced by granite tiles around the indoor hot tub. Raised alcoves host colorful ikebana vases; a couple of ukiyo-e scrolls depicting Mount Yoshino hang from opposing sides on the walls. Lastly, futons are neatly spread in the far back, with a short-legged table spanning at the center of the sitting space.

Bingo.

You settle beside it, laying your belongings on the floor while scrutinizing the couple’s gift box on top, regional specialties packed beside a ceremonial tea set that bears the inn’s logo. You flip the box on its back and attempt to decipher the cursive letters just as Satoru steals it from your hands, wasting no time ripping through the luxurious wrapping paper and tossing a block of brown-colored kuzumochi in his mouth.

“Gotta mmph hring Hahami ‘n’ Meghumi ‘ere.” He refuses to keep his remarks (or food) in his mouth, flour dusting the corners of his lips. “That oughta brighten ‘em up.” He says once he swallows, bringing his cup of welcoming tea to his teeth and cringing away at the sheer bitterness of the matcha. “Bleugh, this tastes like poison!”

You break into a quiet chuckle as you scrub his chin, sleeve curled over your fist, and thumb running stray along his frown. Cute. No, beyond cute. Adorable.

“Don’t blame the tea when your blood type is caster sugar, Satoru.”

“But that’s the secret to my sweetness.” He quips, returning to his previous floured-lip state as he flings a second kuzumochi into his mouth, supposedly to wash the bitterness away. “Think they sell more of these in the gift shop?”

You roll your eyes, humoring him with a teasing sure.

Making it back to your spot, you down your share of matcha in one go, savoring the delightful tartness the beverage leaves on your tongue. “‘Tis not even that bad.” You comment, pouring yourself a refill.

A certain form of silence prevails over the space, during which words aren’t spoken but expressed through various hums of content, with Satoru loudly nibbling on his loot and you quietly sipping on your tea. Moonlight filters the atmosphere through the semi-transparent shoji doors, casting playful shadows that dance along the subtle movements of his fingers.

He’s the puppeteer, and you his devoted audience, easily convinced that there’s genuine mastery in the way he handles his instruments and earnestly keen on trying them out before their numbers are further decimated. A pinch is at the ready, your thumb and forefinger making strategic advances towards the box of delicacies when a counter-offering presents itself to your lips.

“Say ahhhh!” Satoru waves the kuzumochi in your face, your teeth losing to the speed of his fingers as he retracts his hand at the last minute. “C’mon, c’mon!” He giggles, again dangling the bait. “Open wider. Ahhh! Ahhh!”

Your nose scrunches up. You don’t trust his intentions, and you have every right not to, considering he makes you chase after the confectionery with an open mouth, utilizing his infinity to keep you at bay whenever you get remotely close to succeeding.

“Satoru!” You yelp unamused.

“Sorry, sorry!” His apology sounds the opposite of truthful. “Promise, that was the last time. One big ahhh f’me! Ahhh—c’mon, it’s really good! You won’t regret it.”

And it’s no surprise you come to immediately regret it, your tongue hanging loose from your mouth, barely connecting with the dessert before your aghast eyes witness it being devoured by him, so quickly that you lose the opportunity to protest.

There’s no one to blame but yourself, though that doesn’t stop you from pouncing and tackling him to the floor. Two fists grab at the lapels of his yukata, fingers curling around the fabric, while you violently shake him like an unresponsive vending machine, urging him to spit out your eaten cash.

Satoru snorts, and he chuckles, and he laughs, a boisterous symphony of sounds pitted against one another as he, himself, refuses to fight back, merely showcasing the empty contents of his mouth and baring his teeth into a haughty grin that agitates you even more.

“You need to step up your game, munchkin. Or else you’ll never get your prize.”

“And you need to stop tricking me every chance you get!” You hiss, a sigh casting your head backward as you swipe the hair from your forehead. “If you played a fair game, then maybe—just maybe—I would actually win!”

“Aww, baby.” A lofty purr makes you awfully aware of the fact that you’re still straddling him, knees planted on both sides of his hips and thighs squeezing tightly around his crotch. “That’s so cute! Thinking you could ever stand a chance against me.”

“I could!”

“Mm, I don’t think so.” Satoru’s palms glide along your curves, taking full advantage of the position to rub circles that spread over your ass and close around your thighs; slender fingers tantalizing as they ghost over your exposed skin. “I’m quite strong, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He makes you a living example of his words, giddily watching your self-control crumble when he forces you down against his body. A complacent smirk rises on his lips, countering the soft gasp that evades yours.

“See?” He chuckles. “Unmatched.”

“You’re quite annoying too.” You huff, biting your lips into a straight line while you deviate from staring at his face—a grave mistake.

All the wrestling has caused the lapels of his yukata to recede, the fabric so loose it barely counts as hiding a thing. Delicate collarbones pave the path toward his toned chest, rosy claw marks littering his creamy complexion (and it swells you with pride to know you’re the only one to have ever blemished his spotless body) down to the few unruly frosty hairs that span over his sculpted abdomen, and lead lower—much lower than your eyes can currently follow.

Goddamn it, Satoru.

“Is that why you’re grinding against me? Because I’m annoying you?”

His accusation makes your heart sink inside your chest as you are found guilty of a crime you unwittingly committed. Your hips were swaying back and forth against his hardened cock, guided by a firm grasp that failed to emulate the typically lazy manner with which he’d keep you anchored whenever you rode him.

(Aww, bunny. Keep bouncing like that, and you’ll hit your head. Me? Help? Don’t be silly. How you gonna grow stronger if I put in all the work, mm? Better be satisfied with what you have throbbing in ya already. Now, where were we? Right—Ijichi and his…)

Except you were in the middle of a fight, and you’re supposed to be holding a grudge that seems to matter less by the minute.

“Hey, baby?” His thumb harbors softness when he cups your cheek, candied voice flowing from pretty, pink lips that glisten under the pale moonlight. “Think you can be annoyed with your clothes off?”

You almost succumb to his will, the lines between vexation and lust becoming increasingly blurred as you try to get your point across a final time.

“Y’know, I too like sweets!” Your declaration practically melts into his touch. “Just because I let you do the honors doesn’t mean I don’t want to try some. It means I’m a better girlfriend than you.”

“No arguing here.” Satoru beams. “Don’t think I could be a better girlfriend if I tried.”

“Satoru!” You exclaim for the millionth time that day.

“Too early to be screaming my name.”

“I’m serious!”

“And I’m not?” He gasps, hand moving to his chest as if your words actually damaged his impenetrable ego. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. My girlie is such a meanie.”

Your eyes perform a semi-circle, knowing better than to venture beyond his neck. His face is cute, in that boyish way everyone swoons over, but his body is another story. The kind you read with the blinds lowered and the lights dim, colored cheeks, and giddy chuckles muffled by your bedding.

Sigh.

“How can I take you seriously when you say such things?”

“Never said you have to do it seriously. Just takin’ me is good enough.”

“Stop that!”

Swatting his hand from your face, you feel it join its twin behind your ass. You don’t want him to catch on to how affected you are simply by mounting him, but as your hips are forcibly rocked into his crotch, the wet patch your slick paints on his yukata reveals all that your tongue struggled to keep hidden.

“Jerk!”

Satoru grins, holding you tight against his lap as he sits the both of you up. Your noses are suddenly found brushing, and his lips expel a heavy breath your lips eagerly inhale, the proximity dizzying. “Maybe if I gave my girl some sugar, she’d turn sweeter.”

“Ugh, this is exactly what I meant!” You growl in frustration. “Satoru, I swear, if you use one more lame line on me, I’ll—”

Whatever was supposed to come next is drowned out by his tongue as it presses against your mouth, enticing your lips into an all-consuming kiss that threatens to eat you alive. Warm palms hook below your legs, turning scorching as they roll your yukata above your thighs and help secure your knees around his torso, caressing every inch of supple flesh they unveil.

You’re overcome by need in an instant, and judging from how ardently your boyfriend’s cupping your cheeks, as if he’s either trying to breathe life into you or suck it out of your lungs, it’s safe to say it goes both ways.

His cock rubs against your clit through his clothes. He’s so hard, and you are so wet that one thrust would be enough to sheathe him fully into your cunt and meld you into one. But that won’t do. If there’s one thing Satoru doesn’t rush, that’s the way he fucks. He wants to savor everything—every kiss, every touch, every whimper, every moan, every last drop of your essence that dribbles onto his fingers and drenches his tongue like the finest, most delectable nectar meant solely for him—before indulging the twitching sensation in his balls.

There’s no reason for today to be any different.

A string of saliva is cut in the middle as Satoru pulls away, your half drooling down your jaw and his collected by his tongue.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, baby! You were saying?” He coos in an awfully smug tone that barely registers over your incessant panting.

“Hm? Nothing? Thought so.” He deduces after turning his ear to your mouth, and for a second, you’re tempted to bite his earlobe right off.

But somehow you don’t, and in his book, that counts as obedience, which in turn qualifies for a reward.

He plants a kiss on your nose, tender enough to distract you from the no-good smirk plastered on his lips. “How about I do that other thing you asked for?”

Your mind traverses a foggy terrain. You’ve asked him for a lot of things in the recent past. Not overloading Aiko’s bowl with cat food the minute he sees it empty. Not surprise-hugging you when you’re walking alone at night and are unaware of his presence. Not rapping your morning routine to the tune of the hemorrhoid cream commercial. Not calling you munchkin or dwarf when it’s him who’s the long-lost descendant of the legendary tree people.

The list goes on and on with plenty of whimsical examples, and you realize, there are more things you’ve explicitly asked him not to do than do, with your one recurrent request being that he get you a ring made from neither fried dough nor grass blades.

“Close your eyes.” You do as you’re told, thinking you’re oh-so-clever when you try to peer at him through downcast eyelashes, only to be shot down by his technique. “Uh-uh! No peeking!” The last thing your eyes see before they’re covered by his left palm are two fingers that hook under his blindfold and tug it upward.

“Why the secrecy?” You ask impatiently. “Afraid I’ll be blinded by your beauty? Must I remind you I’ve seen you sleeping with your mouth open? The magic is gone.”

“Is it?” His chuckle louder than the elusive sound of his blindfold coming undone. “And here my eyes were thinking you’ve turned even more beautiful than the last time they saw you. How unfortunate.”

There’s a certain humility that comes with someone as ethereal as Gojo Satoru calling you beautiful to your face, but right now, your mind remains fixated on one word and one word only. Eyes. My eyes. His eyes.

“You took it off?” Excitement colors your tone. “Lemme see!”

“Baby, baby, baby.” Satoru playfully chides. “When will you learn to be patient, mm? Don’t you know that good things come to those who wait?”

Seven years is an awful long time to be waiting around.

Eventually, you feel his hand be drawn away, but before light can enter your eyelids, darkness engulfs them again. Cold satin now covers your brow, the kind of silky material you’ve previously only been able to experience via your fingertips as they yanked and hurled it across your bedroom walls.

“Tada!” The unmistakable sound of palms clasping. “You can open them now.”

“Satoru, what—what is this?” You mutter, tight-lipped, as if your ability to speak was also impaired. “I asked to see your eyes, not play suikawari.”

“Aw, shoot. Should I go ask for a watermelon?”

You sigh, fingers withdrawing into fists atop your thighs. You wonder how many years of jail time killing your boyfriend warrants, but then again, you doubt you’d possibly achieve what countless others have failed at.

“You wanted a rematch, didn’t you?” His hands move against your own, soft thumbs rolling reassuring circles around your wrists. He brings them to his lips, printing a kiss on each knuckle set. “Better strike while the iron’s hot. Besides, this game’s so easy, even you got a chance at winning,” he scoffs a laugh at how quick you’re to escape, pulling your hands back as if you were struck by an electric current. “All you hafta do is sit back and answer a few questions. Pretty easy, right?”

His voice rings close to your ear. You realize he’s in fact closer when he takes his affections to your cheeks, shamelessly bribing you with the sweetest kisses he can muster.

It’s working.

“I didn’t agree to this.” You state as his jaw perches on your shoulder, strong biceps caging your body while he reaches around your waist to undo the bow of your yukata.

“Really?” His breath travels south, hot steam depriving you of the opportunity to feel any real cold as you’re slowly stripped of your garments—and yet you still shudder when his lips close below your throat and suck onto your sweet spot. “‘Cause you seemed pretty agreeable when you were all ready to jump my bones a minute ago.”

“Th-that’s because—”

The fabric slides down your shoulders like butter, melting into the soft curves and pebbled peaks of your tits before it pools around your hips. His thighs tense up, blood rushing straight to his swollen cock head while he cradles you, eating you up with the eyes you so fondly reminisce.

“Aw, pumpkin! Won’t you look at that!” Your cheek is captured between his fingers, lightly pinched. “You’re blushing through the blindfold.”

You feel so vulnerable, and you aren’t sure whether that’s because you’re straddling your fully clothed boyfriend while being fully naked yourself or because everything around you is amplified, from the way his finger pads dance around your nipples, to the fruity shampoo remnants lingering in his tousled hair.

“‘Toru, I—”

You cut yourself off. You don’t want to be the kind of woman who has to beg her own boyfriend for dick.

“Will you still be blushing as I fuck your cute face?”

But you’re about to be.

“Hey, I was just joking!” Your hands are seized without accomplishing their goal of removing the blindfold. “Don’t want you losing before the game begins, do we?”

“‘Toru, just—I don’t care about any stupid games, okay?” You whine, voice purposely pathetic in case he feels generous enough to cave in. “I just want you. I need you. Please?”

“And you will have me, baby.” Satoru soothes, shifting both your hands to a single grip while he digs into the pile of clothes at your side. “A promise is a promise. I’ll pamper my precious girl to her heart’s content if that’s what she wants.” A string too thin to be a rope wraps around your wrists, piecing them together. “Love her all night long; teach her all the things she misses when her eyes are wide open. My sweet honeypie, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d also like it if you quit it with all those corny nicknames.” You answer, having absolutely no idea as to how the floor is replaced with the futon when you haven’t budged an inch. At least you think you haven’t.

“You love them.” The grin strong in his voice as he lays you down and climbs on top of you, pinning your bound wrists above your head. “Like you love me, my little sugarboo.”

“I’m rolling my eyes.”

“Wow, this early? Have barely touched you.”

“I’m rolling my eyes again!” You repeat at a higher volume.

“Of course you are. This isn’t too tight, is it?” A finger curls between your binds. You shake your head, and he pecks it, gently caressing your hair while situating his knee between your thighs, bouncing it against your pussy. “You’ll see, you’re gonna love every minute of this,” Satoru continues, his hand playful as his fingers toy with yours.

You have little to no agency over your body when Satoru lifts your leg and folds it onto your stomach, his lips held against yours and his tongue slotted in between. He kisses you slowly, like he has all the time to unravel you, and in a way, he does. He could stretch this moment to infinity, savoring your lips until they’re all swollen and coated with spit, his name replacing every word in your vocabulary while he wanders lower, dragging his warm mouth against your skin and smearing wet kisses down your tits.

“The mochi weren’t half as sweet as you,” he murmurs, soft lips clamping over your nipple, the suspicion of sharp teeth grazing the sensitive bud. “I’ll buy you some in the morning.”

“Y-you don’t need to,” you huff, your chest heaving with one heavy breath after another as he takes hold of your other nipple, alternating between pinching and rolling it around with his thumb, repeating the same ritual of licking and sucking as the nipple in his mouth changes.

“Mm, but I want to.” He insists. “I want to spoil my baby and give her everything she wants. I’d give her the world if I could.”

And yet, you won’t marry her.

His smile ghosts over your flesh, gradually fading as he approaches your navel. “But first, I need to fuck her pretty pussy, mm? That’s what my princess wants, doesn’t she?”

Reluctantly, you nod, a lump forming in your throat when his fingers find purchase beneath your thighs and spread them apart. His biceps curl around your calves as he mounts your knees on his shoulders, peppering your inner thighs with more featherlight kisses that continuously inch closer to your entrance.

He is so attentive when he wants to be, but in his core, Satoru is a selfish lover. He gives, and he gives, and he gives more than you can take, his satisfaction lying in your cute little moans and the tiny arch of your back whenever he pushes you to your limits.

“Thank you for the food!” He croons, and you swear to hate yourself for almost chuckling at his distasteful joke.

He was always like that, to the point where suggesting he bewitched you into falling for him isn’t an exaggeration so much as an undeniable reality. Him, who with his cheeky smiles, exaggerated gestures, and mirthful snickering, conquered your thoughts and claimed the mushy land of your brain as if it were the moon. Him, whose dimples crease around his lips every time you kiss and whose bright blue irises bloom behind your shut eyelids. Him, who’d remain the most extraordinarily beautiful person, even if your eyes never opened again.

Him, whose plump lips round around your clit as he finally takes it in his mouth, suckling on the small bundle of nerves as if he expects it to dissolve into liquid sugar.

“F-fuck!”

Your hips buck into his face, lifting from the covers while your hands maintain their position. If it weren’t for his stupid infinity, you’d be threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him as far into you as humanely possible, but for now, you can only chant his name, feeling his shoulders tense up while his hungry tongue runs laps between your slick folds.

“I’m so lucky you aren’t bound to a region. I’d have to stockpile on you every single day.” Satoru hums against your clit, the vibrations from his mellifluous tone translating into pleasurable tingles up your spine. “My favorite specialty,” he chuckles, sounding so lovable that you can’t hold it against him.

He doesn’t kid about you being like a dessert to him, his tongue greedily soaking up all the juices that gush from your hole right down his chin. He moans in pure delight, perhaps more than you do, the uninterrupted flow of compliments making you feel at least worthy of a Michelin star. So pretty. So sweet. So perfect. The same combination of words he’s been repeating since you first got together, as if his fascination never truly ran out.

The sounds get more salacious while he fucks his tongue into your entrance, and you throw your head back, feeling so unbelievably light that if it weren’t for his hold on your thighs, you would be floating straight to the ceiling. His thumbs stretch out your lips for him to reach deeper, pointy nose rubbing deliciously against your swollen clit while he persistently works your body to its high, making out with your nether lips like he’s kissing your actual mouth.

“Feels s-so good, ‘Toru,” you whimper, struggling to keep your legs from closing around his head.

“Yeah? Like that?” Satoru chuckles, and it would’ve pushed you over the edge if his tempo wasn’t disrupted. “I like it too. Love eating your little pussy. I can tell she loves me too, doesn’t she?”

You can’t believe that the man who’s making all the stars of the night sky appear in the confinement of your tied eyes is the very same man who’s addressing your pussy as a she.

“Hm? You’re hurting my feelings here.” He sounds pouty, though you can picture the sadistic glint in his eyes as his teeth sink into your clit, softly enough to not induce any pain, but hard enough to bring your hips to a stutter.

“Y-yes, she does—fuck, my pussy loves you, S-satoru!” You cry out.

“Hah, that’s more like it.”

Your voice shatters into a million broken sobs which only motivate Satoru to keep going. He nibbles on the sensitive nub, darted tongue inflicting short and rapid flicks that cut right through the coiling tension in your guts with precision that’s exclusive to him and the countless times he’s had you fall apart with his mouth alone.

Your fingers clench while your toes curl, thighs trembling as succulent juices spurt all over him, and, God—how you wish you could see his pretty face ruined like that.

“Mm, baby, you always cum so much for me.”

Without letting a drop go to waste, Satoru licks a luscious stripe between your slit, rolling your essence in his mouth to relish the taste.

“Y’know, I could just make time freeze and eat you out for hours. Days,” he lays a kiss on top of your mound. “Weeks,” one for every thigh. “Months,” his lips on your clit making you wince from pleasure. “Years.” He snickers, marveling at how easily you respond to his touch. “You’d want that, sweets? All that pleasure, just for you. Think you could take it?”

Not knowing better, you nod, and he laughs. You aren’t familiar enough with Jujutsu to be horrified by the prospect of reliving the same moment over and over again, literally getting fucked dumb in a way his technique has never achieved on another.

“Alright, time to turn off the cheats.” He announces after you manage to regain your breath, and it isn’t until his question that you’re reminded of the whole “game” ordeal.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“What?” Your voice scratches its way out of your throat, coarse and laden with desire.

“You asked me the same question earlier, remember?” His fingertips tickle as they drum against your stomach. “At the plateau?”

I’m surprised you can still see my face behind that thing. How many fingers am I holding up?

“The one you didn’t answer?”

“Four, five, two, four, one.” The number of fingers he presses on your skin changes depending on the number he calls. You’d be impressed if you’d actually kept track of the digits you’d shown him, and they weren’t picked at random.

“So, how many?”

You try to pull yourself together, calmly considering your options. He wouldn’t start with five or four. The first three numbers are more likely, and taking a leap of faith—

“One.” You lock in your answer, with an excitable cheer following suit.

“Wow, my girl is so smart!” Satoru praises. “Got it on her first try!”

“Quit treating me like I’m one of your students.”

“Oh, trust me.” He runs his middle finger down your abdomen, emphasizing his point with a tap on your clit. “I’d never treat any of my students the way I treat you. Or anyone else for that matter,” he trails off, gathering some of the slick that’s trickled out of your slit, and brings it into his mouth, finger coated with spit the next time he touches you.

“All of my special treatment is reserved for my special girl.”

His finger prods lazily into your cunt, thick enough for every ridge to be lusciously dragged against your velvety walls, and long enough to delve straight into your pulsing core.

To his disappointment, there isn’t much of a reaction—save for the occasional hitched breath. You can take it. For seven years now, you’ve been trained on his deft fingers and the many tricks they play, but when his thumb begins circling your clit in tandem with his thrusts, your facade cracks.

“Aw, you didn’t think it’d be this easy, did you, bunny?” Satoru coos in fake sympathy, as his thumb zigzags feverishly about your clit, the finger in your cunt curving in a repetitive come-hither motion.

“‘T-toru, please—ngh!” You whine, your lower half squirming on its own accord. “You said you’d let me win!”

“Let you?” A complacent smile takes shape on his face, and although you cannot see it, you can hear it chiming in his tone. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Y-you evil man!”

He giggles at your supposed insult, one moment asking if that’s the best you can do, and the next cheering you on by saying he’s rooting for you.

Asshole.

Heat runs rampant between the lowest pit in your stomach and the apex of your flushed cheeks, the blindfold soaking sweat off your forehead like a headband. You are close; pressure steadily building only to wither away once Satoru retracts his hand.

Asshole!

“Sorry, pretty. Got a little carried away, but no hard feelings, hm?” Your tormentor asks, rubbing your clit at a pace far too slow to be soothing. “Now, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“T-two.” You answer, your sanity chipping the longer your hole remains puckering around nothing.

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!”

You kiss your teeth as Satoru angles his wrist with your pussy and shoves two of his fingers in, curling them against the spongy spot that swells with each pump, and when that isn’t enough to muffle your cries, you bite down onto your lip, choking on every sob you’ve been withholding. Last thing you want is to give your next-room neighbors another reason to fantasize about your boyfriend.

“It’s fine. You can let it all out.” Satoru reads your mind. “Room’s soundproof, though there isn’t much you can say, right?”

Your walls flutter around his fingers in utter bliss. You hate (love) how his words get to your body before your brain can process them; every remark you’d typically deflect, seeping under your skin and igniting as fire in your loins.

“Don’t worry,” he chuckles, maintaining a steady rhythm even with his thumb swiping at your clit. “I’ll be the one doing all the talking from now on.”

“Sh-shut up!” You manage to say before returning to your three-word prayer of little oh-my-god’s and ah-ah-ah’s.

“But you love my mouth.” Satoru argues back. “And now you love my fingers. How long they feel stretching you out, how deep they can go.”

He’s buried to his knuckles, slowing down for the sake of plunging his digits further into your wet cunt, the lewd squelching bouncing across the walls along with the obscene sounds you let out.

“You’re practically fucking yourself on them.”

Your boyfriend’s words cloud your brain, your body acting purely on instinct as you begin to hump his hand. Satoru doesn’t stand in the way; rather, he assists with a sturdy hold that has your hips slamming against his fingers, repeating the motion until your creamy essence comes pouring down warmly over his palm.

You aren’t sure whether the white speckles in your vision stem from the gates of heaven welcoming you to the other side or the light fixtures on the ceiling, becoming certain only after the outline of a halo brushes against your forehead. It’s hard to call the man slumped above you an angel when his one hand is cupping your cunt, the fingers of the other tasked with undoing the knot around your wrists.

You are free to move—or about as free as one can be when every joint in their body begs to drag them down, your limbs strewn over the sheets like those of a tattered rag doll. The blindfold is still on, albeit slightly lowered over your nose. A little more wriggling and you can take it off, yet that too requires effort you lack.

Satoru says something that fails to register in your trance. He’s mocking you. He’s praising you. He’s mocking you while praising you, and praising you while mocking you, because those two go hand in hand in his brain—a proper carrot and stick. You think you should be thanking him or cursing him, but your words turn out a jumbled mess—nothing worth writing home about.

“Ready for the final round?” His voice finally conquers the ambient—heavy, almost as though his own ministrations have worn him out, and distorted by every prolonged inhale and sharp exhale he takes.

“Do I have a choice?” You provoke.

“Sure you do. Just—hah, not when it comes to this.”

A low fuck evades him, and you are oblivious to the way he’s been fisting his cock this entire time, smearing your slick over his length and squeezing the reddened tip in the ring shaped by his thumb and index, biting onto his tongue whenever your name comes remotely close to spilling from his lips. Only he knows the endurance he’s shown keeping himself from busting in his hand at the sight of your fucked-out form, trembling thighs calling to him in a carnal manner your lips could never muster.

You look ravishing, and ravishing you is all he aches to do.

“How many—” Satoru begins, only to be cut off with a croaked three that jumps an octave the moment his fat tip prods into your folds. “Three?” His fingers burrow into the supple flesh of your thighs as he splays your legs over his bare chest. “Could’ve sworn it was at least eight. Guess I need to make it go a bit deeper, huh?”

His lips lay soft against your ankle, trailing honeyed kisses down the expanse of skin that lose finesse once they near the crevice of your knee. An idea blinks in his brain as he grabs your thigh and presses it down against your stomach, repeating the same pattern of tenderness on the other until you are folded in half.

He stares down at you, and for a moment, that’s all he does. His eyes—the prized six eyes that are the very synonym for quintessence—well with adoration over the point where your bodies connect, the tight fit of your cunt prompting him to lose control and fuck an entire generation of sorcerers into you.

All in good time.

A quiet whisper reminds Satoru of his promise, hips drawing back before they snap right into you, the crude sound of his balls slapping against your ass reverberating across the room. You moan in unison, your fists thudding against the floor as his thrusts send you flying past the covers.

It’s too much. It’s too little. You want less. You want more. Your desires bend and twist around one another like indecisive vines, settling on a direction only after he leans forward and fixes the cushions behind your head.

“Congratulations.” The gentle action of his hand combing through your hair contradicts the cock throbbing inside your pussy. “To think my baby would make me eat my own words—well; I can get behind dating a winner. Especially when they’re as beautiful as you.”

“S-satoru!”

You look away—if resting your flushed cheek on the significantly colder pillow and fixing your gaze at whatever lies beyond the blindfold counts as looking—the sincerity in his words moving you more than it should.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you are embarrassed.” Satoru chuckles, punctuating his own question with a sensual roll of his hips that drags against your clit, coaxing the tiniest of moans to slip from your pursed lips.

“Hmm, is it because I called you beautiful?” He leans onto his elbow, relying on the weight of his chest to keep you pinned down. “Nah, can’t be it. I call you beautiful on a daily basis, don’t I? Then—hmm—is it ‘cause I’m so nice to you? Because I’m the best boyfriend you could ask for?”

“Q-quit it with all that self affirm—oh my god!”

Tears prickle your eyelash line at the familiar way his cock glides between your walls. He’s in so deep, relaxed thrusts pushing against your abdomen from the inside, with your cervix serving as the last line of defense for your merge, gallantly bearing every kiss his tip prints on your core.

“C’mooon, you gotta help me out. I’m all outta guesses here.” Satoru whines in your ear, his voice a pitch too high. “Is it because you can’t see me? Because this feels so good? Or because,” his hand sneaks between your bodies to work languid circles around your clit, “you just love me that much?”

“Aw, so that’s what it was?” He interprets the clenching of your pussy as he wills. For once he isn’t off the mark. “Okay, look at me.”

Even when you weren’t embarrassed before, you are about to be as heat pools in your stomach anew, threatening to make your score three to zero. You feel yourself turning liquid, dissolving between ripples of pleasure, drowning in you and drowning in him, and he’s both the riptide pulling you in as he’s the lifeline washing you ashore, the salty tang of the sea clinging to the fingers fumbling about your chin.

“I said, look at me.” His tone serious this time.

Every sense of yours is held captive as Satoru’s lips finally smash into yours, the taste of your essence refusing to die out no matter how many times your tongues swirl around each other. Your breathy moans are traded for his needy grunts, compiling into a broken record that plays sinfully in your ears, the whiff of sex lingering potent in the thick air between you.

He doesn’t fuck into you so much as he grinds against you, allowing you to grab at his biceps when your legs start to shake, the white clouds in your peripheral dispersing behind the sky blue of his eyes, placid orbs electrified by lust.

“Hi,” Satoru greets with an amiable smile, the blindfold dangling from around his forefinger.

“H-hi,” you return, your palms creeping up his face as if to appraise it, soft thumbs pushing the dampened strands away from his forehead, a thirst within you at last quenched.

“It’s-a me.” He says stupidly, basking in the affectionate way you cradle him.

“If you crack a Mario joke I’ll kick you in the nuts.” You warn.

“Oh no! How dare you genocide my children?” He gasps, and you can’t help but chuckle, eliciting a moan from him as your walls tighten around his cock. “M-minus one Gojo junior.”

Another laugh. Another moan. Another kiss.

“Would you put a baby into me if I didn’t?” You trace against his lips, uncertain of the answer you want to hear.

There’s no reason to be discussing having kids when you haven’t even tied the knot, let alone when more qualified candidates exist to continue his clan’s lineage. Maybe Shoko—she and Satoru have always been close, and a healing technique sounds like a valuable inheritance. Utahime—you aren’t sure what her abilities are, but they too go back. Even Mei, her family have a sizable fortune, and their genes combined would—

Mischief sparks in his eyes, tugging at the corners of his mouth and spreading to your lips as he kisses you—not his close friend, not his self-declared nemesis, and certainly not his senior. Just plain old you.

“If that’s what the future Mrs. Gojo wants, then—”

“What do you—”

Before your questions can manifest, Satoru picks up a tempo that knocks the air out of your lungs and the thoughts out of your mind. Big palms wrap your knees around his torso, sculpted pecs smothering your plushy tits while he vigorously drills his cock into your sopping cunt, having the nerve to laugh at your whimpers in between strangled noises of his own.

“You feel so good f’me, baby. S-so fucking good, aren’t you? My good—nah, my perfect girl. Our kids will be perfect too. G-gonna have lots of ‘em, mm? Gonna-fuck, gimme a whole class to teach, right?” He blabs deliriously, broad shoulders flexing as your nails rake them.

You want that. Everything he’s willing to offer, a future where his last name precedes your first, and chubby babies that bear his disposition, his ideals, and his smiles follow on your trail like little disoriented ducklings; one where he’s your husband, and you’re his wife, and you’re tied to each other for life.

Satoru’s lips drift toward your neck, biting sloppy marks that have you writhing below him. And when his cock hits that one spot inside of you, the one he’s been abusing all night long like a kid with a brand new toy on Christmas Eve, “Oh my God—G-god, p-please j-just like that, shit shit f-fuck!”

“Why bring religion into this?” He mumbles, voice inadvertently sultry and cumbered with every bit of self-restraint he showed before entering this frenzy where his climax is the only thing that matters. “Just—hah, say my name. Let the heavens know who helped you ascend them.”

The next time your eyes meet, he’s grinning, pink lips bitten cherry red, and he’s pretty; so pretty; too pretty.

“C-can’t say th-things like that!” You struggle to maintain control over your bobbing head.

“Why not? Your little heart can’t handle it?”

“Sh-shut up, dumbass!”

His eyebrows unite amid his forehead, even his frown attractive.

“That’s not my name.”

“S-stupid!” You yelp, mainly addressing the myriad stupid butterflies that chose to swarm your stupid stomach at his stupid commentary.

“Mmm, I think you’re the one getting fucked stupid here, sugarplum.”

Satoru zooms on into your lips, playfully swiping his tongue in between. You can’t cum any more; it’s physically impossible. You think. But “impossible” isn’t a word in his vocabulary; every snap of his hips causes you to ride on a rollercoaster with no end-destination, only a consistent state of newer highs.

“S-satoru.” His name rolling off your tongue works like a charm, the rhythm of his thrusts slowing down as he presses your foreheads together.

“Again?” He pleads. Quietly. A pin capable of overshadowing his tone.

“‘Toru.” Two smiles turn into one. “My ‘Toru.”

“More.”

There’s not a single gap between your bodies; every piece of him fits into every piece of you like a puzzle, but somehow he seems to get closer, squeezing into your hips a little tighter and kissing your lips a little rougher.

His heart beats wildly against his chest, red leaking onto his cheeks and blue spilling from the ocean in his eyes. He looks at you with love—so much love that it’s seared into your very being and becomes your own identity as the only woman Gojo Satoru ever truly, madly, deeply loved.

“I love you, ‘Toru.”

It’s the combination of those four little words that pushes Satoru over the edge, his hips jerking violently while his cock pumps ropes upon ropes of creamy cum inside your spent pussy, filling you up until you can’t be filled any more.

He collapses on top of you, head reduced into a fluffy snowball that takes refuge in the crook of your neck, and that’s your cue to hold him close, pampering him with all the affection you’re otherwise so frugal about. He’s touch-starved to the point of shaking in your embrace, nearly purring as your arms loop behind his back and your lips touch his shoulders, peppering incomplete kisses across his hot skin.

Your hands relocate to his cheeks as he regains enough composure to face you, an idiotically bright smile stretching from one ear to the other. He nuzzles your palms, pressing kisses at the center of each and then rubbing his nose against them like a content kitten who just received the world’s greatest belly rub.

Aiko should learn from him.

“I love you more, hunny bunny.” Satoru beams, soft rays of sunshine pouring from the cracks in his dimples. “Non-negotiable.”

You bask in the afterglow together, locking toes as if you’re trying to hold hands and making out like two teenagers in heat. Correction: two idiots in love.

Your so-called honeymoon period never ended, probably because you never ran out of things to love about each other. Right now, you’re loving how Satoru’s dick remains plugged inside your pussy despite its painful twitching, for the simple reason you asked him to stay like that a little longer.

You love how Satoru tries to keep his eyes open when you kiss just so you can appreciate them a while longer, and you love the light giggle that tickles your lips as you remind him that only sociopaths kiss with their eyes open.

You love the way Satoru buries his head between your tits and squeezes them against his cheeks, apologizing to his “girls” for not giving them the proper attention and promising expensive lingerie and whipped cream treatments when you get back to Tokyo.

You also love how when Satoru pulls out and sees the mess he made out of your hole, his seed rolling between your thighs in an endless stream, his first reaction is to grin, and his second is to teleport across the room, cleaning you up before you can realize he ever left. You love that the answer to the question “how?” is a cocky “because I’m Gojo Satoru,” which seems to be the answer to most things concerning him.

The list of things you love about your boyfriend grows exponentially after Satoru puts the two of you in bed and pulls you into his arms. You love his hugs. How you drown in them, how he engulfs you better than any dress, shirt, or skirt can. You love the comforting scent his pores exude and the temperature of his naked skin on yours.

You love the narrow hugs that date back to lazy mornings in your student one-bedroom apartment, splayed in a bed that could barely fit his enormous legs, and the wide, almost too comfortable ones you share in his king-sized bed. You love the silly, whiny tone that typically begs you to miss work and try to outlast eternity with him, now declaring it’s “sleepy time.”

You love the Satoru that chased after you until you loved him back, and the Satoru who patiently waits until your eyelids close first so you don’t go a minute without him.

“‘Toru?” You mumble into his chest, seconds before the last semblance of conscience fades away. “Did you turn it off? Your technique, I mean.”

“Did I?” Snowy lashes flutter slowly above his tired eyes. “Hmm, guess we’ll have to see in nine months.” Satoru kisses your forehead. “Goodnight, my little cuddle muffin.”

On second thought, there is one thing you hate about him.

“Goodnight, Gojo.”

“G-Gojo?! Hey, what happened to ‘Toru? Baby? I know you’re not sleeping—hey, wake up, I was just joking! Come on!”

43 Missed Calls—Principal Nanimon

You have 9 new voicemails.

Press play.

“Satoru!” The phone rattles in his grasp, nearly falling into the wooden plate splayed on his lap. “I think I told you to keep your phone on at all times! You are a sorcerer; show some responsib—”

“What is he going on about?” Satoru yawns, scratching the back of his head, and then scrolls to the next voicemail in line.

“Satoru! This is your final chance to answer before I—”

“Final my ass, there’s like—what, seven more of ‘ese?” He comments with a mouth full of fruit that the room service so kindly delivered a few minutes ago. Delicious. Another reason for him to drop a five-star review.

It’s no surprise when the third voicemail starts with the exact same enraged pronunciation of his name and continues with empty threats that want him scrubbing the entire school grounds. Yaga seems to have forgotten their teacher-student relationship ended a decade ago.

Neeeeeext.

“Satoru, I saw what Nanimon is, and I am not happy.”

“Oh? So he outgrew Windows XP?” He chuckles inaudibly.

Licking the sticky nectar off his fingers, Satoru pads toward the window, standing guard between the vicious sun rays and your sleeping form. You appear immune to Yaga’s ear-shattering voice, eyelids shut, and sheets kicked off your nude body, with your hair coiled around your head like a hornet’s nest.

Muffling the speaker with one hand, Satoru leans to untangle the hair from your open mouth. He thinks he might be partial to your charms, because even when he’s holding onto your spit-laced locks, he can only smile at how cute you are drooling in your sleep.

“Satoru? Satoru!” A voice far too guttural to be yours calls out to him, until he realizes Yaga’s voice has broken out of the voicemails.

“Principal Yaga!” Satoru greets once he puts some distance between himself and the bedding. “Good morn—”

“Satoru! What do you think you are doing not answering my calls?” The man fumes.

“Eating persimmons while watching my adorable girlfriend sleep,” he answers earnestly, switching apps and snapping a quick picture of your face. “She’s so pretty—ahhhh, I feel so lucky! Want me to show you? Do you even remember what a real woman looks like?” He taunts.

“She’s still your girlfriend?”

“Huh?” The phone changes ears. “Man, your memory is really failing you. How about I pay for you and Principal Gakuganji to go on a little vacation? I know this amazing resort for senior citizens; their cognitive enhancement therapy did wonders for my great-great-great uncle. Just say my name; they’ll treat you—”

“Satoru, this is important!” Yaga cuts him off. “You’ve been off the map an entire day,” fourteen hours, he corrects, “and haven’t popped the question? What are you waiting for?”

His gaze rakes over your exposed body, trailing the necklace of mauve lovebites around your neck. Smiling, “We’ve been busy.”

“Tell me you didn’t forget the ring.”

“Nah, it’s right here.”

Satoru reaches inside his yukata’s sleeve and examines the small jewelry box, tempted to ruin the surprise by grabbing the blue diamond ring and placing it around your finger—right here, right now. It will look so much prettier on you than it does gathering dust in its confinement.

“What about you?” He stores it away and resumes his call. “Did you do what I asked you to?”

A sigh. “It’s all ready on our side. Are you sure she’ll say yes? You sound confident, but a woman’s heart isn’t the same as jujutsu, Satoru. When it comes to love, the mouth is the source of disaster, and when it comes to you, it’s better to just give her the damn ring and say nothing.”

“And Sugiyama Kiyotaka says it’s fine as long as we understand each other. I get your point. Don’t need love advice from an old man with a doll fetish. I know what I’m doing. Besides, she’s the only one for me. She will say yes.”

A low roar reverberates from the speaker like a faulty engine that’s about to combust, and when it does combust, the entire room shakes. “Satoru! You’re gonna be a married man soon. Better shape up or—”

“Blah blah blah,” Satoru mocks. “Don’t you have anyone else to nag? I think Ijichi forgot to file that—”

“‘Toru?”

The sweet sound of your voice gives him all the reason he needs to hang up the phone after a hasty, “Don’t call me if you don’t need me, and if you do, then don’t.”

“Babyyyyyyyyyy!” He drags out the syllable as much as possible, an invisible cloud of dust appearing around his body when he falls on the empty space beside you, open arms wrapping your shoulders in an excruciatingly tight embrace. Kisses—lots of kisses slobbered all over your face while you are too drowsy to repel him.

“‘T-Toru! S-stop!” You chuckle hoarsely, reciprocating the sentiment however you can. “Who was that on the phone?”

“No one important,” Satoru grins, balancing his chin against your chest. “Ready for today? I got a very fun day planned ahead of us.”

A/N: If you made it this far, then congratulations! You finished reading my first Gojo fic (that made me fall in love with him jsjsjs)

As I mentioned above, chapter 1 is a flashforward to the main storyline that will start kicking chapter 2 onward. Expect laughable misunderstandings, questionable comedic moments, cat rescuings, college tutorings, and the angst behind Gojo's refusal to get married.

Hope you'll stick with! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments, are always appreciated 💙

[ai-manre]

The women in asoiaf and their desire to find safety, to make safety, in a world that doesn't empower them to keep themselves safe, in a world oh so cruel to women. In a world that tells them its the men's job to keep them safe.

When she was done, Drogo was frowning. "This is the way of war. These women are our slaves now, to do with as we please."

"It pleases me to hold them safe," Dany said, wondering if she had dared too much. "If your warriors would mount these women, let them take them gently and keep them for wives. Give them places in the khalasar and let them bear you sons." - Dany VII, AGOT

"The time for that is past, my lady," Mirri said. "All I can do now is ease the dark road before him, so he might ride painless to the night lands. He will be gone by morning."

Her words were a knife through Dany's breast. What had she ever done to make the gods so cruel? She had finally found a safe place, had finally tasted love and hope. She was finally going home. And now to lose it all … "No," she pleaded. "Save him, and I will free you, I swear it. You must know a way … some magic, some …" - Dany VIII, AGOT

Again the shouting began. Catelyn sat despairing. She had come so close, she thought. They had almost listened, almost … but the moment was gone. There would be no peace, no chance to heal, no safety. - Catelyn XI, AGOT

Sometimes men went to sleep safe in their beds and were found dead in the morning, all burnt up. Arya didn't really believe that, and anyhow it had all happened a long time ago. Hot Pie was being silly; it wouldn't be ghosts at Harrenhal, it would be knights. Arya could reveal herself to Lady Whent, and the knights would escort her home and keep her safe. That was what knights did; they kept you safe, especially women. Maybe Lady Whent would even help the crying girl. - Arya IV, ACOK

She flew along the river walk, past the small kitchen, and through the pig yard, her hurried footsteps lost beneath the squealing of the hogs in their pens. Home, she thought, home, he is going to take me home, he'll keep me safe, my Florian. The songs about Florian and Jonquil were her very favorites. Florian was homely too, though not so old. - Sansa II, ACOK

He was going to take me home, she thought as they dug the old man's hole. There were too many dead to bury them all, but Yoren at least must have a grave, Arya had insisted. He was going to bring me safe to Winterfell, he promised. Part of her wanted to cry. The other part wanted to kick him. - Arya V, ACOK

"I could keep you safe," he rasped. "They're all afraid of me. No one would hurt you again, or I'd kill them." He yanked her closer, and for a moment she thought he meant to kiss her. He was too strong to fight. She closed her eyes, wanting it to be over, but nothing happened. "Still can't bear to look, can you?" she heard him say. He gave her arm a hard wrench, pulling her around and shoving her down onto the bed. "I'll have that song. Florian and Jonquil, you said." His dagger was out, poised at her throat. "Sing, little bird. Sing for your little life." - Sansa VII, ACOK

"I never knew my mother," Brienne said. "My father had ladies . . . a different lady every year, but . . ."

"Those were no ladies," Catelyn said. "As hard as birth can be, Brienne, what comes after is even harder. At times I feel as though I am being torn apart. Would that there were five of me, one for each child, so I might keep them all safe."

"And who would keep you safe, my lady?"

Her smile was wan and tired. "Why, the men of my House. Or so my lady mother taught me. My lord father, my brother, my uncle, my husband, they will keep me safe . . . but while they are away from me, I suppose you must fill their place, Brienne."- Catelyn VI, ACOK

"I am sorry for all the trouble I put you to," she said, "but I have no need of boats and ships now."

"But it's all to see you safe."

"I will be safe in Highgarden. Willas will keep me safe." - Sansa II, ASOS

"We thank you for your hospitality, my lord," Robb replied. Edmure echoed him, along with the Greatjon, Ser Marq Piper, and the others. They drank his wine and ate his bread and butter. Catelyn tasted the wine and nibbled at some bread, and felt much the better for it. Now we should be safe, she thought. - Catelyn VI, ASOS

I was going to take you home! Her dragons sensed her fury. Viserion roared, and smoke rose grey from his snout. Drogon beat the air with black wings, and Rhaegal twisted his head back and belched flame. I should say the word and burn the two of them. Was there no one she could trust, no one to keep her safe? "Are all the knights of Westeros so false as you two? Get out, before my dragons roast you both. What does roast liar smell like? As foul as Brown Ben's sewers? Go!" - Dany V, ASOS

"The only game. The game of thrones." He brushed back a strand of her hair. "You are old enough to know that your mother and I were more than friends. There was a time when Cat was all I wanted in this world. I dared to dream of the life we might make and the children she would give me . . . but she was a daughter of Riverrun, and Hoster Tully. Family, Duty, Honor, Sansa. Family, Duty, Honor meant I could never have her hand. But she gave me something finer, a gift a woman can give but once. How could I turn my back upon her daughter? In a better world, you might have been mine, not Eddard Stark's. My loyal loving daughter . . . Put Joffrey from your mind, sweetling. Dontos, Tyrion, all of them. They will never trouble you again. You are safe now, that's all that matters. You are safe with me, and sailing home." - Sansa V, ASOS

And there was one girl who took to following her, the village elder's daughter. She was of an age with Arya, but just a child; she cried if she skinned a knee, and carried a stupid cloth doll with her everywhere she went. The doll was made up to look like a man-at-arms, sort of, so the girl called him Ser Soldier and bragged how he kept her safe. "Go away," Arya told her half a hundred times. "Just leave me be." She wouldn't, though, so finally Arya took the doll away from her, ripped it open, and pulled the rag stuffing out of its belly with a finger. "Now he really looks like a soldier!" she said, before she threw the doll in a brook. After that the girl stopped pestering her, and Arya spent her days grooming Craven and Stranger or walking in the woods. Sometimes she would find a stick and practice her needlework, but then she would remember what had happened at the Twins and smash it against a tree until it broke. - Arya XII, ASOS

She thought wistfully of Highgarden with its courtyards and musicians, and the pleasure barges on the Mander; a far cry from this bleak shore. At least I am safe here. Joffrey is dead, he cannot hurt me anymore, and I am only a bastard girl now. Alayne Stone has no husband and no claim. And her aunt would soon be here as well. The long nightmare of King's Landing was behind her, and her mockery of a marriage as well. She could make herself a new home here, just as Petyr said. - Sansa VI, ASOS

Arya did not like the way they kept surprising her. The hooded man was tall, enveloped in a larger version of the black-and-white robe the girl was wearing. Beneath his cowl all she could see was the faint red glitter of candlelight reflecting off his eyes. "What place is this?" she asked him.

"A place of peace." His voice was gentle. "You are safe here. This is the House of Black and White, my child. Though you are young to seek the favor of the Many-Faced God." - Arya I, AFFC

And Littlefinger was no friend of hers. When Joff had her beaten, the Imp defended her, not Littlefinger. When the mob sought to rape her, the Hound carried her to safety, not Littlefinger. When the Lannisters wed her to Tyrion against her will, Ser Garlan the Gallant gave her comfort, not Littlefinger. Littlefinger never lifted so much as his little finger for her. - Sansa I, AFFC

"As he loved you." Dany stroked the girl's hair. "Say the word, my sweet, and I will send you from this awful place. I will find a ship somehow and send you home. To Naath."

"I would sooner stay with you. On Naath I'd be afraid. What if the slavers came again? I feel safe when I'm with you."

Safe. The word made Dany's eyes fill up with tears. "I want to keep you safe." Missandei was only a child. With her, she felt as if she could be a child too. "No one ever kept me safe when I was little. Well, Ser Willem did, but then he died, and Viserys … I want to protect you but … it is so hard. To be strong. I don't always know what I should do. I must know, though. I am all they have. I am the queen … the … the …" - Dany II, ADWD

Arya's struggle to find a safe place and slowly losing hope over the course of her journey of ever being safe, being unable to trust safety, disbelieving of the very idea that she would be safe.

Sansa's many suitors dangling her safety as a bait to lure her in, her hedging hope after hope on each of them to give her some safety.

Dany who is so desperately yearning for a safe place and person ALL HER LIFE, who has never been kept safe and wants so badly to keep others safe the way she should have been.

Catelyn who'd played by all the rules her society had taught her, every single rule to try to create safety, yet to be betrayed so horribly.

The unsaid promise, the social contract that women should not take up arms and in return they would be protected and kept safe by those around them. They kept their end of the bargain so well, been such good girls and women, and what do they get? That social contract broken in so many ways for all these women.

There is no reward for being a girl, no matter how many promises they make you.

[momentomori24]

Keiji is a character that I'm pretty sure every one of us can recognize is an absolute weirdo (ok maybe some are too hard on copium for the "weirdo" part) and sketchy as hell, but thinking about everything he's done it really feels like he's so much shady and ruthless than we give him credit for. So here's me bulletpointing some the moments that I haven't seen too many talk about, a little theory throwing his status into question and addressing the massive elephant in the room that almost everyone refuses to acknowledge. If there's something else you feel I missed or wanted to evaluate on, do leave it in the comments.

[Also, disclaimer: I will be discussing Keiji and Sara in a romantic light near the end of this post, so if that makes you uncomfortable please proceed with caution or skip entirely. This should go without saying but for my own sake I will say it anyway-- No, I do not condone their relationship in real life. No, this is not meant to be "shippy" or endorsement of any kind. This will simply be pointing out their dynamic as another example to prove the whole point of this rant. But if someone else does ship them that's totally fine. Fiction doesn't equal reality and if you harass a real person over fictional characters you will not see the light of heaven. Be civil, please and thank you. My block button is rated E for Everyone and if anyone decides to ignore the warnings and be an asshole I won't hesitate to use it. Thanks for listening. Disclaimer over.]

*Being a murderer.

I feel like I should start with the most obvious and undeniable. I don't think this is debatable to anyone here. Mr. Policeman may have been an accident and kinda confirmed by Midori to have been set up, but he still shot and killed an unarmed man in a moment of panic and recklessness. Even putting that aside, there's no denying that he killed Megumi in cold blood to get out of his debt to her and covered it up to the group to preserve his credibility. Regardless of what you think of Megumi, he has no excuse here. Not only is he one more kill away from being a serial killer, he's the only participant in our group that has actually killed people directly aside from Alice. Another reason why I bring this up is cuz something that completely flew over my head is this:

At the start of the game he had the audacity to complain about not having a partner or someone he knows with him like Sara does as if he didn't literally let Megumi get ripped apart by chains probably not even an hour ago Keiji what the hell--

*Throwing Kanna under the bus repeatedly.

Despite positioning himself as a protector and someone to rely on, he's far from above putting their youngest members in danger. Next to voting for the fourteen year old girl to die, he had the great idea of letting said fourteen year old be the one to babysit their biggest liability. Up to the point where they would stay in the same room both day and night. While I absolutely 100% trust that Sou would never EVER do anything to her, Keiji had no guarantee of that when he send her off. Hell, he literally just got done accusing Sou of setting Joe up to die (which I don't believe almost solely based on the fact that he said it, more on that another time maybe). He knew Sou was bad news, and openly acknowledges how adults can be terrifying, but he did it anyway. The dubiety of throwing the already traumatised little girl to keep watch on what they thought to be the most dangerous adult that had manipulated her once before is not lost on me, and that he didn't take any responsibility for her afterwards isn't lost on me either. To be fair, the Sou and Kanna thing doesn't just fall on him, it falls on everybody (Alice gets a pass because he actually swapped out with Kanna to watch Sou for her), but he was the one with the final say on the matter and who encouraged her to take the role despite Reko's rightful protests. The fact that he also voted for her to die in the Main Game, and is the only adult to do so, doesn’t help his case.

*Attempting to frame Sou knowing Reko was actually responsible.

While you could argue he was trying to cover for her since he knew why she did what she did, trying to pin this act on Sou to cast more doubt on his is extremely shitty. Never mind the blatant corruption and the irony of a supposed man of the law abusing his power to knowingly frame an innocent person (in this situation at least), and him sowing more seeds of confusion and resentment within an already rattled group, and giving Sou legitimate reason to be suspicious of him (and by extension Sara)-- this makes it so difficult to trust him after realising he's done this. Literally every time he accuses someone of being or doing something suspicious (mostly Sou), I always have to think in the back of my head if he’s telling the truth or just telling a blatant lie. He's shown that he's willing to not only lie to cover for himself, but to lie to delegitimize someone else. And Sara never caught onto it (Sou and maybe even Nao likely did tho). She never openly acknowledged it-- No one did. The complete lack of mention of what he did here makes this action quite missable. Hell, I didn't even catch it the first time. Has he done this before? Who else has he lied about? Who else would he lie about? Who else would he knowingly pit against the group? You don't have to wait for that answer, because I will provide an example later. And with "later", I mean now.

*Casting suspicion on Gin before the vote while hiding the fact that he killed Megumi.

While it's not as blatant as with Kanna, there are two instances where Keiji shows a readiness to either put or leave Gin in harm's way. The biggest one for me is in the Main Game. Like, how dare you. That is a furry child, sir. This kid’s like TWELVE. Even though he makes a valid point about calling out suspicious actions to clear them up so we can all trust each other, casting doubt on Gin of all people right there feels pretty screwed to me. This was before the preliminary vote. His words could’ve very well gotten Gin voted for if he couldn’t disclose why he did what he did for whatever reason and therefore being unable to clear himself from suspicion. It’s even more fucked when you realise that Keiji has literally murdered his partner and is currently planning to get Sou killed while giving this whole spiel about doubting others so that we can believe them and pointing the finger at a little kid to make an example to the group. But when Nao, Sou and Sara call him out on his suspicious actions that could rightfully damage his credibility, he tries to shut them down completely. My brother in Christ, you brought it on FIRST (don’t get me wrong I’m very much aware he didn’t really mean the whole “trusting each other” bit but come on dude)--

Speaking about not meaning what he says:

*Letting the group think he’s Ok to vote for knowing he’s the Keymaster.

This kinda got to me because I thought this was Keiji actually being… vulnerable? Accepting the consequences of his actions and allowing them to vote for him in their distrust without protest even tho it could cost him his life, maybe. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I can’t remember a lot of times-- or any times, really-- where Keiji has willing put himself into the line of fire, at this point at least. He always finds a way to keep himself safe, give himself insurance, and I thought that this would be the one time he doesn’t do that. But this feels so ominous looking back knowing that he was the Keymaster the whole time. That our distrust and betrayal and his resignation to it all didn’t matter because he was going to be safe no matter what. That he knowingly allowed us to assume that he was a safe vote because he didn’t want his plan to kill Sou to be ruined, which narrowed down choice of people we can safely vote for even further. That this action is ultimately the reason why Sou and Kanna were our only options to kill off in the end. If he had admitted it there, we could’ve found someone else to vote for so our final options could consist of three people, not two. But he didn’t, and the rest is history. There’s a lot of things he’s done I can’t get over. This one ranks pretty high. The second Main Game is already a huge sore spot for me for obvious reasons; knowing that a lot of the things that happened were due to his inaction where it truly mattered and activity in all the wrong places doesn’t make me fee any better. He didn't say he was a safe vote-- he didn't lie-- but his words carefully omit that voting for him means a total party death, something he should've stated then (and before this, really).

*Leaving Sara with the sacrifice card.

Despite making a big show about “always being by her side” and being her “reliable policeman”, he chose to look away when she was in real danger. He attached himself to her as her right hand man, made her shoulder the responsibility of being the leader, constantly manipulated and flattered her to win her trust and gain her favour-- but when she needed him the most, he basically left her for dead because it was the most beneficial to him. Keep in mind that not only did he know about her getting the sacrifice (he was also the sage so he'd have seen the trade happen), but he had the tokens to help her get rid of it. But those tokens weren’t for her life. They were for his. He used them instead to give himself the Keymaster as insurance for the Main Game (the Keymaster he stole from Sou/Kanna most likely to buy Sara’s trust btw). His desperation for survival outweighed his sense of obligation to keep her safe, and that’s the most subtle yet transparent he’s been about his selfishness. What makes this so much worse is that Keiji is our support character. He’s an ally, and our closest one at that, to the point where Sara burned her hands in a futile attempt to rescue him and signed her life away to save his. And yet his loyalty and protectiveness pale in comparison to other characters. Compare his actions to Sou’s: one of their many parallels and similarities is that both their girls get hit with the sacrifice card. As we’ve established, Keiji was fully aware of Sara being send the sacrifice by Sou, had 50 tokens ready to go and chose to secure his own survival than save her life. Kanna ended up doing it instead, attempting to trade the card off Sara with Sou realising what happened immediately. And what does Sou do? Completely bend over backwards trying to keep her alive. He lied about being the Sacrifice so the others wouldn’t suspect Kanna of having that role, meaning he could try gathering vote for her without anyone seeing his true intentions. He tried to stop her about coming out with the truth of what she had done so she doesn’t sentence herself to death. After everything he did to survive-- after how much he lied, how much he schemed, how much he hurt, and how he had thrown himself away to replace everything that made him Shin with the man that had traumatised him years before the game began to scrape together even the tiniest chance to survive-- he threw it all to the wind and was willing to let it all be in vain if it meant she got to make it out of the Main Game alive. The worst part is that Sou had never intended to make it through that Main Game. He confessed to already knowing that Kanna would choose Sara over him if she truly had the Sacrifice card. Yet he still did what he did all in the hopes that she could win. Because it was all about her survival first, not about them surviving together.

It also gives a different context to Sou's panic and him stumbling over his words trying to come up with any argument to get them to stop. At first I thought that Sou was afraid for his life. Which would make sense-- Keiji and Q-taro set him up to die and seemed pretty adamant on having everyone voting for him to get it all over with. But he was already prepared to die the minute he realised Kanna traded with Sara. So it means it wasn’t his life he was fearing for here-- it was hers. To him, if they voted for him there, it wouldn’t have just been his end but hers too. But we know that Kanna isn’t the one who has the sacrifice. It’s Nao, and considering how the Main Game can end either or both of them dead, I wonder if he regrets not having given up there, not letting Keiji get away with that shitty stunt he pulled knowing it would’ve at least guaranteed her safety than leave her fate in hands of a girl with enough reason to kill her. Ignoring the sounds of my heart shattering into pieces for the 100th time thinking about the Greenblings, it’s so fascinating that our biggest rival and most distrusted member has a greater sense of loyalty and responsibility for his ally than Keiji has for his own. Sou can be a liar and manipulative and selfish, but for how unpredictable he is something I can always trust is his love for those he holds dear (Kanna) and general desire to protect our most vulnerable (Gin). Sou loves Kanna, and so he’s fine with protecting her even if it comes at a price he never wanted to pay. Keiji surely cares about Sara, but unfortunately that is something I can’t say about him-- at least at that time (also the fact that Sou ended up taking more care and responsibility for Kanna despite Keiji having been the one to throw her on him in the first is so ironic).

*Continuously pushing Sara to take on the role of leader.

I think one of Keiji's biggest failures in the game come from his treatment of Sara despite positioning himself as her most reliable ally and her partner. From the very get-go, he was very adamant of making Sara be the one to shoulder the responsibility of the group. He, along with Joe (he didn't do anything wrong here), pushed Sara to be the Challenger during the Russian Roulette, despite Q-taro and Kai being readily available. He made Sara be the one to interrogate the suspicious convict while distancing himself from the situation. And he encourages her to lead them through the Main Game, lets her make the choices that steer them all forward and as a consequence take the fall for them as well. Rather than take on the role himself, or let another adult take it, he places his full trust in her and makes her shoulder everyone's weight so he doesn't have to. And he can see the effect it has on her: having horrific hallucinations due to the immense guilt she feels. But having Sara as their leader gives him a greater shot at survival and helps his credibility, so even though he tries to provide her comfort he still continues to keep her in that role. Again, the high schooler taking responsibility for the adults falls on a lot of the older people here, but Keiji was the one who kickstarted it rather than just go along with it like everyone else had. Gin, Nao, Kanna, Reko and even fucking Sou to an extent all have moments where they take the burden off her and relieve her of that pain she shoulders all the time (or at least try to). I need Keiji to take more responsibility for both the group and for her.

*Pitting Sara and Joe against each other.

This is just another example of the previous point. This isn't as bad, and I could give him the benefit of the doubt that this might have not been intentional, but it's something I want to bring up regardless. I'll be the first to say that Keiji wasn't wrong here. Prying into everyone's votes is a very bad move, especially since no one knew that Mishima would actually die (it was introduced as a practice round, after all). I agree with him, Joe was being rash, but instead of leaving the conversation there, he decided to throw Sara into it to pick a side. Which is... not good. He already won the argument and already had Reko on his side. Bringing in Sara could not only make Joe feel worse and potentially strain their relationship (especially if she rightfully chooses Keiji's side like he was expecting and hoping for), but just puts Sara in the spotlight during something she doesn't want to be part of. While there's a chance he might've done this because he know Joe is more likely to listen to her than him, he should've known better than that. It again makes her take the responsibility of giving the final verdict that would've otherwise gone to him.

*Asking Sara to take responsibility for his life

I've got nothing other that the grown adult swearing his life to the grieving, unstable teenager to take responsibility for while asking her if she'd die along with him is weird as heck. Keiji's said weirder things prior to this, but this one is a different weird. I think Beanieman's post mostly echoes my thoughts on this on, so I'll link it here for this point. This part kinda bothers me:

He shouldn't be encouraging her taking on anymore responsibility than she already is. He knows that the deaths that happened under her leadership haunt her. He knows that she's very much unstable enough already, to the point where he takes baby-steps to avoid triggering her trauma over Joe. He positioned himself as her reliable partner, her rock to lean on (quite literally sometimes). We see first hand how emotionally dependent she is on him. If he died, it would destroy her-- she'd destroy herself over it. He knows this (or should) but he still does it. His disappointment and dismissiveness when she understandably rejects him makes it worse. The guilt of potentially not living up to his expectations is not what she needs.

*Potentially working for Asunaro

This is more ambiguous than everything else here and more a theory than anything but it's been on my mind for a long time that Ranmaru might actually be onto something here. We know that Asunaro has a strong hold on the police. Midori was able to infiltrate the force, and they were able to get rid of Mr. Policeman for looking into the corruption going on, first having Megumi fire him and secondly getting Keiji to kill him by planting false info about the suspect having a gun. Megumi was also able to get Keiji off the hook for murder, which I believe Asunaro had a hand in too (I theorize this might've been her wish). There's also Alice, who was arrested and sent to prison despite the fact that he (legally) didn't kill anyone since Midori was a doll. The police are connected to Asunaro-- by extension Megumi and extending further potentially Keiji.

Something I've seen someone rightfully point out is that neither of the options you're given to say in response to the accusation... actually deny it? Both choices dance around answering directly, which is suspect as fuck. If Keiji truly wasn't with Asunaro, why not shut that theory down immediately? There's no benefit to answering anything but "no" when he's innocent, and he's lied straight to people's faces for less. So why not just debunk it? I think it's cuz there might be some truth to what Ranmaru was saying here. The biggest reason I think this is because despite the fact that Keiji quit the force, he and Megumi were still associating with each other years later. They were kidnapped together and partnered up for their first trial. One missable piece of dialogue is Keiji admitting that he was with his partner-- or rather a "coworker"-- before getting knocked out.

That slip of the tongue and backtracking makes me believe this part to be true. Him switching from "my partner" to "a coworker", which is a lot more distant and impersonal, makes me think it's got to be Megumi. However, I don't believe that Keiji would wanna keep in touch with her after what happened willingly, so I can only imagine that it's due to that debt he has to her. My little game theory here is that after the shooting, the debt he owed her was a forced recruitment into Asunaro. It's the only thing I can imagine he meant by "the worst kind of debt", a debt he'd literally let her die for to get out of. And if this is true, then it could also explain away his instant attachment to Sara, since he'd know beforehand that she's someone he can depend on due to her having the highest chance at survival. Maybe he already knew about her beforehand, one way or the other. We know Hayasaka did (which I think we as a fandom moved on from way too fast btw). Kai and Sou did too. There's always a chance. And unlike Sou's victory rate and Midori's favourite number, it's not zero. One person made a comic about this idea I recommend checking it out, it's tastefully unsettling. But still very much unsetling and uncomfortale. Be warned that it's also Keisara-centred, so if that makes you even more uncomfortable they did the job right you can ignore it. Proceed with caution or don't read if you don't like.

*Being a predator

I have been waiting so long for this one XD For context: a while ago I made a longpost discussing the sanitisation of soushin and this kind of toxic attitudes in fandoms regarding "problematic content" (ships, characters, shows, you name it). In it, I mentioned that it's not only soushin that receives this treatment but a certain other dynamic too. It's not a rainy day, however this has been way overdue and if I don't get this done now I never will.

Something I've seen a lot, and I mean a LOT-LOT is this notion that Keiji acts "like a father" to Sara and that their relationship is a completely platonic father-daughter bond and that he's the resident dad of the group? Like, it's cute, but that's not at all what their relationship is. At all. Not even a little bit. We called Sou and Kanna siblings before the Greenblings reveal. The difference is that not only does half the fandom think this man is gay, but he's only ever been protective and caring and loving without any romantic intentions towards Kanna ever. His title as her brother was deserved, based on the genuine affection and platonic protectiveness similar to that of Alice's. Keiji has made advances tho, on many occasions, and his flirting is repeatedly acknowledged by other characters. Namely Sou and Reko.

(Sou grills him for being a creep every chance he gets I love him XD) But yeah, these are not the type of reactions and comments you receive when being a "father-figure" to the teenager. You get all this when you hit on the teenager. Which he does all the time by calling her "cute" every time she asks something and his "cute little detective", swearing himself to her by saying that "he's always on her side" or something like that, asking her if she'd die alongside him, repeatedly claiming or insinuating that they're on a date, or ""having a moment"" and going to ""take the next step"" when in private (*cough* groomer *cough*)-- you name it, he likely said it. He's a walking-talking ladykiller machine and teenage girls aren't safe, apparently.

(Quick note: The dialogue for the Russian Roulette one is a tad different now. In the new translation he says "cause you're so darn cute" now. I dunno if that makes it sound any less weird, but I felt like putting that out there. What I'm also putting out there is that according to the trivia he calls her cute 8 times throughout the game so. Yeah. *Cough* groomer *COUGH COUGH*)

Like, who tf says this?? Especially that last part 💀 Even if you wanna die on the hill that these are supposed to be "jokes" not to be taken seriously, we should all be able to agree that the (ex)police officer in his late 20s jokingly hitting on the high schooler he follows around is still weirdo behaviour at best and down right despicable at worst. The fandom seeing lowkey predatory/inappropriate behaviour from a figure of authority persistent for almost three entire chapters and dismissing it as "fatherly" and "platonic" is, well, concerning. It's very concerning. If your dad acts like Keiji, you should probably call the police. Unfortunately for Sara, Keiji is the police. And considering this guy got away with manslaughter, I don't think said police would do anything anywho. But yeah-- he uses flattery and flirting to distract her from prodding to much at him while simultaneously aiming to gain favour in her eyes. He showers her with reassurance of his loyalty and affirmation of his deeper attachment towards her and her alone every chance he gets to cement his position as her closest and most trustworthy ally. He insinuates a romantic partnership between them to others to mostly keep her to himself or the two of them alone (he always does that when they're investigating or going to investigate by themselves). There's such an obvious romantic undertone to their relationship and his actions that it going almost completely ignored in the fandom feels weird to me.

I want to make clear that there's nothing wrong with headcanoning Keiji as a father figure to Sara. It's cute. Keiji didn't have a dad himself, and the closest thing to a father figure he had was the man he shot dead. He's a damaged and hardened guy. But Sara's dad is involved with Asunaro and Gin's is an alcoholic, and in a situation where they both need guidence and protection he tries his best to grow and change, fumbling to become that decent father none of them got to have. It's nice, and a wholesome dynamic for our "characters with memorandum counterparts and only non-determined deaths" trio. But that's obviously not what their dynamic is. There's a difference between headcanoning something and erasing canon and the Yttd fandom leans heavily into the latter. Keiji's a creep, he always has been, yet 90% of people I see always portray him as a Mr. Dad Guy or completely sanitise him to hell when him being creepy and unnerving to be around is what made him such a fascinating character. Just like I said with Soushin, the sanitisation to make canon more digestible is one thing: harassing or insulting the people that explore canon is another. I'm gonna take a bullet, derail this rant and say it-- Keisara shippers get so much shit for literally being right it's so infuriating. Keiji does hit on Sara, a lot. He's creepy and weird like that. Him flirting with her isn't a "mistranslation" or a joke or anything like that; his dubious wording and antics are very much intentional. Yet the only people I see actually addressing and acknowledging that without adding fluff is keisara shippers and other ""proshippers"" only for them to get fucking sniped for it I cannot 💀💀 I have yet to meet a single eastern fan who calls this cop "fatherly". This really feels like such a western issue cuz the majority of the japanese fandom agrees that this man's a predator (correct me if i'm wrong but keisara is the most popular ship in the japanese side of the fandom, right?). Then again, eastern fandoms are more chill over there when it comes to separating fiction and reality in general anywho.

*Yeah, I think I'm done with the Keiji slander. Yay. Time to unceremoniously end this.

There's more to say about that, but this is a Keiji post, not another shipping discourse post (although it's hard discussing Keiji's predatory behaviour without bringing it up too). Before I do spiral from the original point, I'm going to try and reach some sort of conclusion here. While I did spent the majority of this post just reading Keiji to filth, and am very salty towards him in particular, this was not just to rake him through mud for my own sanity (tho it's part of it XD). Keiji's character is that he started off as someone who wanted to do the right thing, someone who wanted to be good and moral and protect others by joining the force only to kill all the progress he made along with the person who inspired him to become an officer in the first place. It heavily contrasts the Keiji we have now, a sleazy, unreliable and corrupt ex detective who flirts with underage girls and is willing to resort to the most bankrupt of decisions to save himself. A man that has long lost hope of his wounds healing that he lets them fester and his rot spread onto others. And while I headcanon Keiji to just inherently be a piece of shit, his former self tried his best to be genuinely good before he became so convinced he can never be better that he made peace with his shittiness in the end.

With all this I wanted to highlight some the shadier and bankrupt things he's done that I haven't seen much discussion around and refresh myself on them before the final part. Both so no matter how emotionally dependent and therefore rose-tinted Sara is about the man I don't forget what he's actually like and what he's done while also being able to appreciate how much he's changed for the better. Some of my favourite examples about how he's changed are these:

Before the second Main Game Keiji was willing to let Sara and Kanna die because it was the most beneficial option for him, but in Chapter 3 he takes the on the role of "it" from Kanna and refuses to tag Sara when he thought he was gonna die after failing to beat Midori.

Actually showing more sympathy towards Sou after the Main Game. He was very mean about dismantling his pretence of a cold front to Kanna's death, don't get me wrong, but he showed a lot more consideration and understanding for Sou's feelings and acknowledgement about his active role in it than he ever had beforehand.

He was genuinely fighting for everyone to survive the game, not just himself. While Keiji would prefer everyone making it out safely, he has a tendency to guarantee his own survival first through any means necessary. His plan to corner Midori in the banquet could've cost him his life if it weren't for Q-taro's final stunt, yet he still reassured Sara to save Gin even tho it could've resulted in his execution from Meister potentially finding him guilty of violating the rules.

Him hugging Mai and trying to be more cheerful was cute as heck. I'm sorry but him showing more vulnerability around his allies and being less closed off in a way he hasn't been before is something I'm very head empty about. That he was hugging and interacting with Mai without making any unwanted advances or ladykiller jokes and generally just having a more friendly vibe was nice. It makes his creeping on Sara more unfortunate, but I'll take what I can for now. The bar is in hell.

And that's it, I think. Overall, I hope they do address some of his actions here in the final part or make them have an impact on his and Sara's relationship. Especially that Asunaro part. The person who wished for Sara to join the death game is still unknown and so is Keiji's consent form wish (same goes for the Dummies, Hinako and Megumi), so I'm curious if they're related or not. If he's going to go down an even darker path or redeem himself as much as he can we'll see when the final part drops. He has the potential to go both ways. This is going to be kinda awkward if the next part reveals him to have been a decent guy all along, so hopefully that doesn't happen. Please be morally bankrupt, man. This post didn't end up the way I wanted it to, nor bring up as many points as I would've liked, but I know I won't finish it if I went full perfectionist on it (I already spent months on this writer's block do be a bitch) and it's looking kinda long already. Hopefully it's still decent enough as is right now. I'd like to say that this is my apology for the last longpost I made, but I brought up one of the most controversial and hated ships and traits of Keiji's character and defended them, so maybe I shouldn't 🙃 Anywho, hope you enjoyed and cheerio.

[a-lilypad]

@jegulus-microfic | april 5: slap | 1.3k words

a little theater rivals to lovers au where reg and james are double casted to the same role and james rips the only costume they have the day of regulus' opening night (cw: slight violence)

big big smooch to @ecstarry for the idea ily <3

A loud ripping sound echoed through the auditorium, causing everyone to immediately stop what they were doing, despite being in the middle of a scene. Even in the shadowed wings, Regulus’ expression was very visible and did not bode well for the rest of the cast. 

Or more specifically, for James Potter. 

Regulus’ jaw had dropped slightly, leaving his mouth agape, and a look of complete disbelief in his eyes. Shaking his head slightly, he seemed to come back to himself, shock morphing into an intense red-hot rage. It ran through his veins, replacing his blood, burning through everything in its path and was radiating from him in waves. 

Creating pure destruction and leaving only anger clouding Regulus’ mind, shown by the hardening of his eyes and clenching of his fists. 

He felt his nails dig into the soft flesh of his palm, nearly piercing the skin but instead forming harsh pink dents. Though they’d be nearly impossible to see through the already purpling bruises there.

Maybe Sirius was right and he needed to find better coping mechanisms… he could unpack that at a different time.  

At that moment he had more important things to deal with, such as James Potter, his theatre rival of three years, ripping the only costume they had the morning of their performance opening. 

“I can not fucking believe you, Potter!”

He started towards the horror-struck boy, stomping across the stage, and swung his arm with as much force as he could garner. The sound of the slap masked horrified gaps from the cast members on stage, but couldn’t hide the way Potter’s head flew to the side. 

Huh. Maybe Regulus was stronger than he thought. 

As Potter stared at him with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify, (because, while he knew Potter wasn’t the sanest of people, there was no way he was crazy enough to be looking at the person who’d just slapped him hard enough to knock him back a few steps with awe) Regulus shook out his hand with a wince. That had fucking hurt. 

“REGULUS!” his Drama teacher, Mr Slughorn, shouted. He had an annoying nasally voice that went right through him, he genuinely hated the man but he usually loved acting enough to let it slide. This was not one of those moments. 

“Wha-why-you” he rambled, hands frantically waving around “Why on Earth would you slap Mr Potter?” 

“He just ripped my fucking costume! We don’t have another, what was I meant to do? I can’t go on stage naked,” Regulus complained. 

He knew it was a bad idea the minute Slughorn had suggested Potter run through a final dress rehearsal. He was B cast! It was A cast’s night which meant it was Regulus’ night. 

Potter was looking at him strangely, his brows were furrowed slightly, almost as if he too was confused. He was staring at him with both reverence and irritation. Then in a split second, the irritation took over and he came out of his stupor. 

“You could have maybe, I don’t know, not fucking hit me?” he snapped, “it’s not like I did it on purpose!” 

Regulus scoffed, “You definitely did!” and stepped even closer to Potter, pointing his finger at him and pushing it into his chest, “You’ve been praying for my downfall since the second you saw me beat you, just admit it, I am better.” 

“ENOUGH!” bellowed Slughorn, Regulus had completely forgotten he was there, in fact, he’d forgotten anyone else was in the room with them. That was weird. “Both of you are to go to the supply closet and find something else for Mr Black to wear tonight, we’ll have something somewhere.” 

Huffing and sending Potter a death glare, Regulus swiftly turned around and stormed off stage, hearing Potter’s footsteps behind him as confirmation he was being followed. 

Great. This was exactly what he needed. Alone time with James Fucking Potter. He hated him. He had since the first time Regulus auditioned for a school musical in year 8. 

He remembered being so scared, he was shaking and praying he wouldn’t vomit up his organs, then Potter flounced in, all big hair and a cocky smile. He barely even spared Regulus a look before announcing to the other people in the room that Regulus would never get the part and he’d be stuck playing a tree in the background. 

He was right of course, Regulus had been so nervous he’d fucked his audition completely and had ended up not even having a single line. 

Potter got the lead. 

He vowed that day to never let Potter beat him to a role again, and so far he hadn’t, managing to get the male lead in every performance since. 

Ranting under his breath, Regulus continued listening to Potter’s footsteps, praying that he’d trip over something and fall flat on his face. Sadly, that did not happen and they both arrived at the storage closet unharmed.

Well, except for Potter’s face, a bright red mark was blossoming across his cheek. In his room, Regulus had a shelf of little trophies and awards he’d earned, but this was the most valuable. He wanted to take a picture of it and display it like a tapestry. He’d wanted to knock the crooked smile of his face for years now.

“What the fuck are you smiling about, this is your fault” Potter snapped, reaching forward to push the door open, having to bang it a bit, it had been given to the drama department after the lock had broken leaving it so that you can only open it from the outside.

“My fault?!” Regulus seethed, anger rearing up again as he followed Potter into the closet, “I’m sorry, did I rip the costume? Because, now forgive me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure that was you!”

“I’ve said already it was an accident, god you’re insane”

“I’m insane? Are you fucking joking? I’ll show you insane” Regulus snapped stepping into Potter’s space.

The door slammed behind them and a loud click told them it had locked. 

Well fuck.

Potter stared at him for a second before bursting into laughter. Curling over, wiping away tears, booming laughter, while Regulus wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and disappear. 

“What by locking us in a confined space together? Great plan Reggie” he choked out, still cackling.

Regulus ran a hand through his hair, messing up the precise curls. “Don’t call me that!” then turned to start pulling at the door, desperate to set them free, but no matter how hard he pulled at the handle it wouldn’t budge.

“Stop laughing at me” Regulus mumbled, hitting his head against the door and groaning, the situation was embarrassing enough without Potter taking the piss.

The laughing trailed off suddenly and Regulus cocked an eyebrow suspiciously, not expecting to actually be listened to. Potter was gawking at him, eyes sparkling, his jaw dropped slightly. 

Narrowing his eyes, Regulus met his gaze, “What?” he sneered.

Potter slowly moved towards him and tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear, his face fell from anger to confusion and Regulus was holding his breath. He wasn’t sure why. It felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Their eyes locked and the world around them disappeared.

Then they were kissing, lips meeting bruisingly, and Regulus didn’t know who had moved first. It was desperate and hungry, tongues exploring each other's mouths and breathy gasps being shared between them. Potter’s hands threaded through his hair and pulled, causing his lips to part around a guttural moan.

He grabbed Potter by the shoulders and shoved him slightly, leaving about an inch between their faces, “This means nothing, I still fucking hate you” he mumbled into Potter’s mouth then he grabbed his face and pulled him in again and proceeded to practically eat him alive.

[ackrmvvn-levi]

I couldn’t hold back || J.K.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Mentions of death, bad language

“The name of that good friend of yours, that one you told me about. Oh right, it’s Marco.”

Your eyes bored into the bowl of stew held in your hands, doing your best to remain calm through this conversation.

“You said Annie was involved in his death, didn’t you?”

You didn’t need to look over at Jean to know he was scowling. Marco’s death had taken a toll on both of you, finding out Annie was involved was even harder.

“Have you asked about it yet? The truth behind his death.”

Your head flashed up, eyes snapping between Yelena and Annie quickly. You hadn’t, truthfully, You didn’t think Jean had either. Up until now, you weren’t sure you really wanted to know. The point of it was Marco was dead, you didn’t need to know the details.

“I took off Marco’s ODM gear.” Annie spoke before anyone could inquire more information. “That’s why a titan ate-“ Reiner cut her off.

“Annie was only following my orders.”

The anger in your chest burned, bubbling under the surface. You could’ve assumed he’d have something to do with it as well, but hearing the words come out of his mouth was a different experience entirely.

“Marco overheard a secret conversation I had with Bertholdt. In fear of our cover being blown, I thought the best way to silence him was to have a titan kill him. I slammed Marco into a roof while in the air. And while I held him down, I had Annie take off his ODM gear. Marco was stuck there until a titan ate him.”

It was deathly quiet as Reiner finished, no one quite able to believe what they were hearing. You felt sick, you were furious. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at either of them, knowing what they’d done to Marco.

“Did Marco say anything at the very end?” Jean spoke up, eyes trained at the fire in front of him. His tone was hard, cold, his body language seemed stiff, almost like a wall.

“He asked why I wasn’t willing to talk to him.” You looked towards him then, meeting Reiner’s eyes for the first time in years. There was nothing but pure regret in them, and it made something twist deep within your stomach.

“I think that question still applies. We hardly tried to talk, we all just kept fighting, assuming it had to be to the death,” You said finally. Your gaze fell back onto your stew as if suddenly uninterested, unable to maintain eye contact.

“I stood and watched the titan as it devoured Marco and then a switch flipped and I couldn’t figure out why it was happening. I just snapped. I flew into a rage, hellbent on avenging Marco. I cut down the titan myself.”

Your grip on the bowl tightened, your body stiffening at Reiner’s words. Anger fired up again in your blood, fueling a burning sensation behind your eyes that made you want to scream.

“We get it, Reiner. You feel guilty and it screwed with your head,” you snapped, your fingers digging further into the bowl, your glare focused only on the blonde man across from you.

“Don’t forgive me. I’m truly worthless.”

It was silent for another few seconds, Reiner’s eyes refusing to meet yours, but the tension was thick. You were on the verge of exploding when he spoke again.

“I’m sorry.”

You were moving in an instant, your half empty bowl of stew thrown to the side, your body moving towards Reiner before you could even register it.

“Y/N!” Hange’s yell fell on deaf ears as you lunged forward, tackling Reiner to his back. You barely registered your fists connecting to his face, your mind buzzing, eyes seeing red.

He made no move to fight back, your hits only stopping when Mikasa grabbed your wrist. “Stop!” You looked over your shoulder, sending a harsh glare up at the girl before yanking your arm out of her grasp.

“Listen to me, Reiner,” you spoke, turning back on the man under you in a flash, your hand roughly grabbing his shirt to force him to look at you.

“You lied to me, for years. You made me fall in love with you and then broke my heart in the worst way possible. You killed how many innocent people? How many scouts? People I knew, people I cared about. And now I can add Marco to that list. My best friend! Now, you’re gonna sit there and try to apologize? After everything you put me through?! I’ll act civil until we stop Eren. But after that, if I ever see your face again, I’ll fucking kill you,” you growled, glaring into Reiner’s eyes, a level of anger you’d never felt before flowing through your veins.

His eyes widened slightly, as he processed what you had just said. The rage inside of you was something you didn’t know how to handle. The need to hurt Reiner overwhelmed everything else, even logic. It was like an instinct. One you could hardly deny.

But you released him, standing and stalking off from the group, ignoring the calls of your name as you did. You needed time alone to process all this. To calm down. Time away from Reiner and the constant reminder of all those you had lost because of his actions.

You hadn’t noticed the footsteps following closely behind you, not until you heard the familiar voice cut into the silence.

“You got him pretty good.” Jean’s tone held a bit of amusement, but there was concern hidden beneath his words. You knew Jean well, if you hadn’t blown up on Reiner, it was likely he would’ve. He cared about Marco just as much as you did, you knew he was angry too. He had just gotten better at masking it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that.” You turned to meet his gaze, his eyes soft, his expression kind. He was worried about you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry,” you replied, shrugging lightly. “I know I probably shouldn’t have done that, but I couldn’t stop myself. I’ve wanted to see him again for so long, just to yell at him. But hearing him talk about Marco, I couldn’t hold back.”

Jean nodded thoughtfully, running a hand though his hair. His gaze wandered towards the ground as he thought. Then he looked back at you. “I thought it was hot, honestly, but that’s just me.”

You met his eyes again, a second passing before a small laugh left your lips. You grinned at each other for a moment before breaking out into laughter together.

The laughter soon died down, Jean’s arms moving to pull you into his chest. You sighed into his body, melting into him as you dug my face into his shoulder. Your heart calmed itself, settling against the comforting warmth of Jean.

“Are you alright?” Jean asked softly. You could feel his breath ghost across your head as he spoke. “Yeah, I think I am. Just exhausted, honestly.”

As Jean pulled back to check on me, you smiled weakly, his fingers reaching up to push back some stray hairs around your face. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. Your hands moved automatically to rest on his waist and you felt his hands cup your cheeks gently as he closed the distance between you.

Our kiss was light, yet filled with emotion. You could sense the sincerity of it, in the way Jean held you tightly and pressed himself closer. Our lips were moving rhythmically, your breaths mingling together. His thumbs stroked circles over your cheeks, soothing your nerves. You relaxed further into his touch, sinking deeper into his embrace and basking in the moment.

When you finally pulled apart, your bodies remained close, both unwilling to let go. Your cheek rested gently on his shoulder, holding him tight. He ran a hand lightly up and down your back, his touch reassuring.

“Thank you. For being here, with me.” Your voice was slightly muffled, still pressed against his body.

“Of course. Always.” His arms wrapped tighter around you. I could hear his heartbeat slowly starting to steady, his breathing calming once more.

[daddyyy88]

“Te iubesc” | Sebastian Stan x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 0.7k

warnings: ?

summary: You do something completely unexpected at you and Sebastian’s wedding, and it makes him fall in love you even more

You were so perfect. It’s all he couldn’t think about. You had done so well, managing the stress of today and you were now standing in front of him looking like you just flew down here from heaven. You were standing in front of him, ready and willing to be with him for the rest of your lives, promising to love him through everything.

When it came time to say your vows, you seemed nervous. He caressed your hand as he watched you with the softest eyes, surely with heart shaped pupils too. You looked behind you at his mother and his brows furrowed a little.

She nodded and you took a deep breath. Never in a million years would he have thought you were about to speak your vows in Romanian. That you took the time to sit down with his mom and learn his first language so he understood just how much you wanted him for the rest of your life.

“Sebastian, you have no idea how hard it is to find the words to express just how much I love you. But I hope I did a good job, because all I want is for you to understand just how important you are to me. I love you with my whole heart, with a passion that can't be expressed in words, only in kisses, glances, and years of adventure by your side. I promise to be your honest, faithful, and loving wife for the rest of my days. I pledge to honor you, love you, and cherish you as my husband today and every day. Today I say, "I do" but to me that means, "I will." I will take your hand and stand by your side in the good and the bad. You are my every dream come true, and I can't wait for the reality we get to build together. You love me and complete me in ways I never knew possible. From this day forward, I promise to listen to you and learn from you, to support you and accept your support. I will celebrate your successes and mourn your losses as though they were my own. I will love you, my husband, and indulge in your love for me for all of the years of our lives. I choose you and promise to choose you as my husband every day we wake. I will love you in word and deed. I will laugh with you, cry with you, scream with you, grow with you, and craft with you. To be your partner in all of life's adventures is all I could hope for in the world. Loving what I know of you and trusting what I don't yet know, I give you my hand. I give you my love. I give you myself, the good, the bad, and the yet to come.”

Tears flooded down his face, and he just wanted to hold you in his arms for the rest of his life. “God, babe, why’d you do that” he said, laughing as he wiped away his tears. You giggled and he said “all I wanna do is kiss you now”

“Just a few more minutes” you said and he sniffled. You wiped away the never ending tears coming down his face and he sighed shakily. As he spoke his vows, you felt like you were falling in love all over again. You were so sure that this was right for you. You felt no anxiety, no fear, you knew Sebastian was the perfect man to spend the rest of your days with.

Saying “I do” that day was the easiest thing you’d ever done in your life.

“You may kiss the bride” the officiant said and Seb cupped your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours. “Te iubesc, baby” he said and you sniffled. You took a deep breath and said “Te iubesc”

He kissed you softly, moving his arms down and hugging your waist tight against him, smiling through the kiss. Once you broke the kiss for air, his cheeks were so blushed you were almost concerned and he was grinning so so so hard.

“Can’t believe you made me cry like a baby in front of all our friends. Now everyone knows it wasn’t a trap and I actually love you” he joked and you giggled. You pecked his lips again and said “please, you couldn’t pretend you hated me even if you tried”

“I hate it when you’re right,” he said and sighed. You kissed his cheek and said “prepare to be miserable forever then, cause you're stuck with me and I’m always right” “there’s worse ways to live” he said and scooped you up, running down the aisle with you in his arms.

I just put the parts spoken in Romanian in bold because I don’t want to risk getting the wrong translation and it also makes it easier for you guys to read

Taglist: @kandis-mom @buggy14 @high-functioning-lokipath

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Geralt of Rivia

Henry Cavill

Chris Sturniolo

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[thelavenderflamingo]

Night Shift

Fictional Interpretation/Short story of the Song Night Shift by Lucy Dacus.

Summary: Y/N goes through a horrific breakup with her now ex-girlfriend, Julien Baker. Instead of seeing Julien everyday at Y/N's 9 to 5, she decides to get a new job.

 I felt it in my bones that this was wrong. The spit of the man I was kissing was almost drowning me. Actually, it was. I pushed my tinder date harshly off my body and coughed into the floor. My date laid on one end of the couch where I had pushed, while I keeled over, coughing on the other side. “What the fuck? Are you okay?” His gruff voice only made me cough harder. “Julien I’m sorry” I regretted the name the moment it came out of my mouth, my head slowly whipping around in hopes the man would be replaced by a more comforting figure. He wasn’t. “Okay, you’re fucking crazy. I’ve got to go.” I quickly got up. “Hey I’m sorry. Julien- I mean Jacob please come back!” The door shut in my face. 

“I’m doing fine.” My hands rubbed against the soft fabric of my pants. “I’m just trying to derail my one track mind, you know how I get.” I looked up, trying to gather whether my therapist believed me. “You  know I’m regaining my self worth back in just record time.”  She let out a quick chuckle. “You’re not doing fine, Y/N. You choked when you kissed someone other than Ju-” “My ex.” “Do you see my point? You can’t even hear her name.” I was silent. “Have you spoken to Phoebe or Lucy?” I shook my head. “I almost reached out a couple of times, but it felt wrong. They belong to her. Not me.” My therapist nodded. “Have you been keeping up with what she's been up to?” I slowly nodded in sadness. “She comes back into town this weekend.” “Oh that's interesting! Will you see her?” “Oh no! Absolutely not!” She set her notebook down. “Well why not? You could gain a lot of closure by going to have coffee or something with her.” “She’s already moved on.” “Well this isn’t a get back together Y/N, It’s closure. Don’t entertain the thought.” “But I just can’t help but think of the other girl in the bed that was once mine every time I see her.” “Just try it.” 

I wondered if I was a masochist. That was my only thought as I stared at the brown eyes before me. The woman I once looked at as the sun now resembled a burnt out street lamp. She wore a backwards hat and slouched, like she always fucking did. Always trying to seem small in public so people wouldn’t realize she was Julien fucking Baker. In my head, I imagined myself punching her in her teeth. Her big ‘Dave Grohl’ smile, as Lucy once put it. I was so fucking angry. How dare she move on. She moved on in the four months of silence while I had been grieving the three years of love. “You’re a fucking bitch Julien!” My arms shoved her back so hard she slipped out of the metal chair. Her mop of beige hair flew into her face. “I fucking loved you! I never meant what I said in the breakup! I always assumed you’d come back! But you fucking moved on!” I kicked the table so violently the glass cups fell and shattered on the ground. Laying next to my broken heart. The glass crunched under my boots as I walked away. 

“Y/N. You okay?” My eyes blinked back into reality. “Hm?” “You went somewhere for a second.” “Oh yeah, I’m sorry about that.” “You know you never needed to apologize.” There was silence between us. The tension cut both of us off from talking. “I regret my part in the downfall of us, but you truly left me no choice, Y/N.” I felt sick. “I mean what was I supposed to do? Beg you to come back when I knew neither of us was happy? I certainly wasn’t happy.” Why did I come here? To sit and watch her stare at her fucking feet and absolve her guilt and just shake hands as if she didn't destroy me? I felt no need to forgive whatsoever. But as I looked into her eyes I figured I might as well. It would take time but I couldn’t live my life being angry at the woman I once adored. As I gazed at her I felt the urge to connect our lips. She looked at me with the same intensity she always had, eyes analyzing every part of my being. I need her lips on mine.  I just wanted to feel her one last time. No. I had to stop. I cleared my throat, shattering the moment. A crumpled up bill was in my pocket, I grabbed it and threw it on the table, paying for my part of coffee. “I gotta go Jay.” “Wait.” She grabbed my arm. “Say it again.” I turned around, confusion consuming my eyes. “Say what again?” “My name. It’s just been so long-” “I can't, I truly have to go, Julien.” My arm was ripped from hers as I quickly made my way towards the street. 

The sun was making its way down behind the tall buildings, the neon lights of Memphis slowly replacing it. I walked for hours on end. The last time I had checked my phone it was when I was waiting for Julien at 5 o’clock, checking my phone through blurry eyes, I saw that it was now 12 am. I sighed and turned the corner with all intentions of returning to my new, empty apartment, but when I rounded the brick wall I saw a small bar, nestled in between a Law office and a Record store. The bar looked cozy enough so I popped in through the red door. 

“Hey love, it’s four am, you have to leave.” The blond behind the bar spoke to me sweetly while trying to pull the vodka soda out of my hands. “Wait-no please. I need it.” “Here’s some water. Please sober up. You gotta leave here in the next 45 minutes.” I nodded sadly as I took the water out of her hands. I finished the water and my hands grew idle. My phone had sat neglected next to me, so I picked it up, tapping through stories. My eyes landed on what only could have been described as my worst nightmare. It was one of JUlien and I’s mutual friends' private stories. My eyes were glued to the image behind the two men posing. It was Julien, with the girl she had been seen with mere hours after I ended things. I grew angry and dialed the all too familiar number. The ringing stopped. “Hello?” The groggy voice that came through the line cut my heart.” “You know what Julien-” I was completely slurring my words. “Don’t hold your breath. I hope you forget you EVER saw me at my best. You know, you don't deserve what you don’t respect. You don’t deserve what you say you love and then you neglect.” “Avery I-” “Now bite your tongue! It’s way too dangerous to fall so young.” I took a well needed breath. “Take back what you said. You can’t lose what you never had.” I hung up just as the girl’s hand took my phone. “There will be no calling of exes.” “Whatever.” I sighed, slouching down. “Come on girl. Let's get you home.” 

I got over it the best I could over the next few weeks. I eventually ended up getting a job at the bar I had solemnly stumbled into. I was serving one of my regulars when he looked at me in my eyes. It wasn’t just a glance, but a look. It was almost like he could see my entire life in this look. “What are you doing here?” I laughed. “What do you mean?” “I mean this job obviously isnt you.” “Well that’s a bold statement.” “Im serious.” He grabbed my arm. “Tell me why you’re sad.” Looking at the him, I decided to give into it. “My ex, well we met at the recording company I was working at. I fell for her instantly, but after we broke up i couldn’t stand to be there anymore. She was there 9 to 5, so I just assumed it would be best if i took the night shift, somewhere else.” “You left your job because your ex recorded there?” “If i can help it, I’ll never see her again.” A slow love song that used to be ours started playing from the speaker. He waited for my commentary, “In five years I hope that all of these songs feel like covers, almost very distant, and I’ll dedicate them to new lovers.” 

The questions from my regular never stopped coming until we finally had to kick everyone out at closing. The floors were sticky with spilled alcohol, and my coworker had left me to close the bar by myself. I was mopping the floor when I heard it. The soft sound of Julien’s voice over the speaker consumed the entire building. I let the song devour me, dropping the mop and throwing my arms around myself as I swayed with the music. I was so consumedwith the sound around me I didn’t hear the soft sound of the door opening, but I did hear the steps of boots I had known so well. Instantly I whipped around and made eye contact with the person who broke me and engulfed me all at once. I took a breath. “Julien.”

Thank you for reading! This is my first work so pls be nice!!! Suggestions and critiques are welcome!!!

[axcel-lucci]

Trafalgar Law x dragon!male!reader

A/n: this is probs a modern au with a slight fantasy in it btw (I know y'all didn't even ask but here it is) (also tagging @lawomi bc of their mink x Law fic.) (also pretty damn long)

My masterlist

Warnings: mpreg, birth process, ridiculous smut.

Dragons have always lived with humans. But due to controversy in ancient literatures, depicting dragons as vile, greedy creatures, they were always looked down upon.

Trafalgar Law didn't care or buy that bullshit, maybe when he was a kid, sure, but his parents were open minded about such things. They believed in giving people or other creatures a chance to prove themselves.

Law used to roll his eyes at this until at his highschool days when he had a dragon classmate.

His classmate was tall and well built, looked mature for his age, but oddly looked human (other than the fact that his classmate had four arms).

Law guessed it was his "human form" so that he could "blend in" with the other classmates.

(Y/n) was the guy's name. Odd, but okay.

The man displayed remarkable intelligence, yet was held back simply because he was a dragon. Teachers and administrators never believed this dragon was independent so they'd always question him about it, i.e riling him up until the dragon was violent and call whatever authority it is in the school

Law thinks that was cruel. Really, it is. (Y/n) just sits to himself most time, wearing anything and everything to hide himself from the world.

They didn't really interact much until he almost got mugged in an alleyway he uses as a shortcut to his house. (Y/n) stepped in and grabbed Law by the collar of his shirt and flew off just as fast. But in no time, Law was put down right outside his house with (y/n) quietly standing beside him.

The man was towering over Law, it was hard not to feel intimidated. Especially since he had scales on the skin of his cheek, his pupils were slits like a true dragon. But all (y/n) did was gesture for Law to go in and left just as quietly.

That was also the moment Law felt a small... Epiphany.

From a far, (y/n) always seemed so... Scary. Real scary. But up close, scarier.

Since that day, Law made it a point to at least speak to his classmate even if it's just one sentence like: "excuse me" or "thank you".

(Y/n) never really responded and just stared before walking away.

It was weird, but the junior graduation was coming up, (y/n) shyly asked Law out.

It was weird seeking a scary dragon act so meek and shy that Law can't help but laugh (he accepted it anyway).

Through out the seniors, (y/n) made it his mission to cling unto Law as much as possible. Law actually didn't mind because at least then, he gets "scary dog privileges".

Their story continues with Law introducing (y/n) to his parents (they loved him), and (y/n) to his (they also loved Law).

After 5 years of them dating, they (coincidentally) proposed to each other at the same time.

With back story out of the way, (y/n) was now working as a software developer while Law was a doctor. They're married now and have a 3 bedroom house.

It "wasn't much" according to them but hey, they're happy with it.

They were currently cuddling on the couch, watching Law's favourite movie.

"Have you ever thought of children?" Law asked sheepishly as (y/n) looked at him.

"Children... I do, but do you? We can adopt." (Y/n) shrugged briefly as his gaze was focused on Law.

"I see... Is it weird I want them someday?" Law chuckled making (y/n) shake his head and lean down to kiss him.

"Of course not. So... Adoption?"

"I'll think about it, love." Law smiled softly

Later...

Law was reading a book on their bed as (y/n) comes in with a proud look and his hands behind his back, "guess what"

"What?" Law was amused as (y/n) sat down.

He revealed a plush toy of a Pokémon Law absolutely loved. It's size was as big as the other's torso making it huggable and squeezable. "So that you wouldn't feel lonely in the hospital."

Law gasped and grabbed it while turning it in many different ways, observing the great details.

"Thank you!" Law yelled as he tackled (y/n) with a big hug.

"Oof-" (y/n) huffed before smiling so softly and hugging the other back tightly.

"I love it..."

"I knew you would."

Out of nowhere, Law's phone started ringing as he grabbed the phone and sat on (y/n)'s lap. "Hello?"

Law nodded a few times before humming softly, "I see... I'll be there in 30." He said before hanging up.

"Emergency?" (Y/n) said as Law got up and got ready.

"Yeah... There was a serious accident on the main road. A bus had toppled over. Around 20 passengers inside"

"That's horrible... Do everything you can, alright? Stay safe." (Y/n) nods as Law grabbed the plush.

"So that I wouldn't feel lonely" he winked making (y/n) roll his eyes with a chuckle.

Law then returned at the wee hours of the morning, luckily, he was on a day off that day, and so was (y/n). The stars really were lining up somehow.

He took a quick bath and changed into some night wear and laid on the bed beside (y/n) who felt him immediately and turned over just to grab Law and wrap his big arms around him with his tail wrapping around his waist and a wing to shield him completely.

"I missed you" (y/n) tiredly said with a smile.

"I missed you too" Law smiled at his clingy dragon hubby as he kissed his forehead, "let's go back to sleep, yes?"

"Yes."

They soon woke up around 8, well, Law did.

He could feel a specific... Shape... Was protruding from his lower back as (y/n) has his head tucked into the other's neck, still snoring just as cutely.

"(Y/n)... My love..." Law smiled as he rubbed the side of the other's face as he slowly stirred awake.

"What... Huh...?"

"Morning wood?" Law chuckled

"No... It's mating season."

Law could feel his face heat up, "a-already?!"

"Time sure past by quite quickly... But I won't do anything you don't want me too..." (Y/n) muttered, still cuddling him.

"I'm surprised you can restrain yourself... Most creatures can't, you know?" Law turned around to face (y/n) and cup his cheeks.

"Dragons are disciplined creatures."

"Damn right." Law smiled as he kissed (y/n) passionately, "but what if i want you to rail me?"

"Do you? I can make that happen"

"Maybe later... For now, I'm hungry." Law chuckled as (y/n) sat up, despite the blankets still covering his lower half, his hard on was still visible (and how thick it was).

Law could only bite his lip in anticipation because he knows he'll eat that dragon sized d- later.

The day was normal as usual, cuddling, food trips, more cuddling, binging, in depth discussions about fictional shows, and many more.

This was Law's safe space, his own home. And (y/n) is his home.

But when the night time eventually came around, Law still remember the promise he made so he sat on the bed, waiting for (y/n) to come in. In which he did after closing all the doors and windows downstairs.

"Hm? Hey love." (Y/n) smiled as he walked over their big bed to accommodate his growing size.

*You said you'd do it~" Law chuckled when (y/n)'s eyes suddenly went dark with desire and basically tackle him to the bed.

Law's favourite season was spring (mating season), for obvious reasons.

Law can't help but laugh and moan at the same time as (y/n) tore off his clothes.

"Hey...!"

"I'll spoil you next time, I promise." (Y/n) said as he licked up Law's nipple and carefully nibbling it to prevent it from hurting him as he gasped and moaned softly.

It wasn't too long when (y/n) started to finger Law's ass with his thick and long fingers while jacking him off.

"(Y/n)- ah-...!" Law came with a moan as soon as (y/n) added his third finger inside him just to stretch him up as he came all over himself.

Once he was stretched enough, (y/n) made a show of licking Law's cum from his own body all while taking off his clothing.

They were both naked now as Law stared at his husband's large member, "god... It seems like you keep growing" he said, biting his lip

(Y/n) chuckled as he positioned himself at the now loose hole, "you ready?"

"Yes..."

(Y/n) nods and slowly pushed himself in.

Law gasped at the big stretch, his abdomen eventually swelled up to his shape being slid inside until it was all in.

He can't help but gasp for air at how "stuffed" he feels right now.

(Y/n) eventually started to thrust slowly, Law gripped (y/n) as his nails leave marks on the other's back. Law moaned loudly before being muffled by a kiss as (y/n) thrusted deep inside him over and over.

Law, after a while, came with a loud moan and his back arching.

(Y/n) can't hold it anymore and came deep inside Law. It was... Kind of a mistake because then it'd mean his egg would plant itself inside Law.

The next morning...

Law felt so sore from last night but that was the best night ever. He still feels somewhat "stuffed" but this happened before, (y/n) came so much some of his cum must've still been stuck inside.

He yawned softly before feeling (y/n) starting to wake up

"Law...? How're you feeling...?" (Y/n) asked as he wrapped his arms around him.

"A bit sore... But somehow, still full...?"

"Hm... I can help with the soreness," (y/n) hummed softly as he sat up, "where does it hurt?"

Law smiled at him, "everywhere."

The other chuckled before leaning down and licking his skin.

Dragons actually aren't researched that much but if people were to find out the dragon saliva had healing properties, they'd abuse the fuck out of them.

Law can't help but squirm slightly and scoff a bit.

"All done. I think I know what to do about your 'fullness'? Just hold on." He said as he dug his fingers inside the other's ass.

Law gasped and moaned as (y/n) searched for the source of his fullness, eventually feeling them pull it out with a "pop".

He sat up as (y/n) hands him a warm egg. "What-"

"Yeah, I don't know what happened either." (Y/n) shook his head as he laid back down with his hands under his head.

"An... Egg... Is this-"

"Yes."

"How-"

"I don't know."

"Would this... Egg... Still live?"

"No. An egg grows inside a person for 2 months, then they come out and grow on their own for the next 7 months."

*Can I even...?"

"Yes you can." (Y/n) smiled, "but I don't want you to order yourself to do anything."

"Is it odd that... I want to do it?"

"Do what?"

"This..." Law was refering to the egg, "but then..."

"Your bodily functions will 'stop' momentarily to accommodate this. Like how women stop getting their period when they get pregnant." (Y/n) shrugged, "it'll be fine."

Law seemed to think it over really deeply. "Can you... Put it back in...? I... You know... Want to."

(Y/n) looked at him and scanned his gaze for any hesitation, when he didn't find any, he stood up and kissed Law. "Alright. Hold on."

He gently grabbed the egg and slowly pushed it back in making Law gasp softly as he felt the egg slowly being pushed back to where it was before.

"Fair reminder, it will take root in a couple of days. And your tummy will probably grow like a pregnant woman." (Y/n) smiled at the thought of it before turning to look at Law's eyes, "... You should take a break from the hospital... I don't mean to sound insensitive but... If you have to quit, do it. I'm a software developer, I can support both of us."

Law seemed to weigh his options before holding out his hand and cupping (y/n)'s face. "I'll try my best."

The both softly laughed and shared a kiss, "well... Let's get some breakfast, I'll make bacon and eggs"

"Isn't it my turn to cook today?" Law chuckled

"Aren't you 'pregnant'?"

"Fair."

For the next few days, Law has never seen (y/n) so protective as he is now. Monitoring his health, giving him the right vitamins, feeding him all sorts of foods that he somewhat craves, and even going as far as doing all the housework because to (y/n), pregnancies are sensitive.

Which is true in some sense but, Law can't complain.

"Here, love. I made you a nest." (Y/n) grinned up at Law as his stomach was now big like a mother carrying a five month old.

"What is that for?" He asks as he laid down on it. It was now his favourite spot, pregnant or not.

"So that you'd feel comfortable when you give birth." (Y/n) smiled as he kissed Law's forehead. "Now feel comfortable while I build the rest of this nursery."

Law looked around and noticed the walls were painted nicely with children's art by hand, a few commodities for the baby, and he was currently building a large crib.

"Are you sure you don't need help?"

"No, just relax, my love."

Law shrugged before starting to doze off for a bit.

Another few days past and the nursery was all done.

Law now sat on his nest that he funnily called a "throne", his belly looked 9 months pregnant at this point.

"You should get ready to push anytime now." (Y/n) said as he kneeled down beside him, rubbing his belly.

Law nods as he looked at his belly, "I was feeling a bit... Off, today..." He then looked up at (y/n), "how long do I like... You know..."

"Like human birth. Well, maybe not exactly like it but it depends." (Y/n) smiled softly, "and what do you mean 'off'? Can you explain it in detail?"

Law thinks for a moment before replying "It's... I don't know... My stomach feels heavier... I've been having this...pressure down there for a couple days now..."

(Y/n) looked at him, "get ready." He stood up

Law gave him a surprised and slightly worried look. He carefully pushed himself off the "throne" and sat up properly, "Get ready for what? Is it... Right now???"

"Stay there." (Y/n) as he carefully push Law back down on his 'throne', "I'll get everything ready, just... Get yourself ready whether physically or mentally... I'll be here, my love." He kissed the other's forehead as he left momentarily.

Law could feel the pressure bit the though of having children makes him smile and relax comfortably.

"Alright." (Y/n) came back with a few stuff, "Water, for after you "give birth". A towel for me to clean you with. Pain killers if you need them. And a basin of warm water for the egg to clean it with." (Y/n) Said as he placed the ones Law needed beside him and within reach as (y/n) rolled up his sleeves and position himself in front of the other. "Tell me when you feel it"

"Alright." Law smiled as he gripped one of (y/n)'s hands he gracefully offered, "I-i think I feel it."

"Alright..." (Y/n) took off Law's bottoms for a bit. "Tell me if it hurts so much you think you can't take it, alright? I'll relieve you with some momentary magic." (Y/n) Said as his left hand summoned a mist and he placed that hand on Law's belly, "You ready?"

Despite feeling nervous, Law nodded and gripped his hand as the pain kicked in. "I- I'm ready..."

"Speak to me, okay?"

"I will..."

(Y/n) nods as he took a breath in and steeled himself.

After a gruesome 8 hours of pushing, the egg is finally out. (Y/n) placed the freshly laid egg in the basin with warm water as he clean Law up and wipe away tears and sweat from his face. "Here, have some water."

Law, exhausted and still hurting, sighed and leaned back. "It... It's alright... Right?" He asked tiredly before taking a sip of the water.

"Yes... It's fine. You should rest, I'll make dinner shortly, my love." (Y/n) smiled softly as he kissed the other's cheek, cleaned the warm egg up, and placed it inside the crib. Surrounding it with blankets to keep it warm and steady.

Law smiled before feeling himself rest for a bit.

A couple of months assed by like a blink of an eye. Law was wiping the egg up as it slowly cracked.

"Love! Come quick!" Law yelled into the hallway as (y/n) just finished making lunch.

(Y/n), with possibly the speed of a sports car, rushed up the stairs. Tripping himself in the process but that's bullshit to a dragon. Mere hits wouldn't even hurt them.

Law found himself fascinated as the egg, like any other, cracked itself open and twins were inside, a girl and a boy with the body of a human but had distinct dragon features.

The girl looked a lot like Law but has (y/n)'s eyes and small wings, while the boy is (y/n)'s looks and Law's eyes with what looked like a serpent's tail.

"Oh~ a wind and water dragon..." (Y/n) said excitedly.

"Dragons have types?" Law asked amusedly

"Yep. I'm a star dragon, one responsible for the stars in the sky." (Y/n) explains briefly, "... And dragons develop faster than humans, don't be so surprised if they could suddenly speak tomorrow or something."

Law nods, taking that note. "I see... Well, may I name them?"

"Of course. You gave "birth" to them, remember?"

"Don't remind me." Law chuckled, "the girl is Lila while the other is Levin... I think it'd fit them."

"Well, while you're getting to know them, I'll just "dragon proof" the whole house." (Y/n) smiled awkwardly.

"What does that mean?"

"Wings, she can fly, serpent's tail, he can control water."

"Oh."

After a few months, the twins grew older. Despite being a few months, they were able to speak almost fluently like a 3 year old and has learned how to use their given abilities without ever being taught.

(Y/n) pulled Lila down, "dear... You're flying too high" he says as he overrides Levin's power with water and pour it down the drain, making the boy huff in a small tantrum. "What have we talked about this, young man? Do not play with water inside the house."

"But papa!" Levin pouted

"No buts." (Y/n) lightly scolded as the child stomps his little feet.

All while stopping Lila from trying to unscrewing the lightbulb and lick the socket.

"Children. Listen to your father." Law chuckled as he came in with a tray of fruit snack he freshly chopped up.

"Daddy!" The two children immediately went to him enthusiastically.

"How come they listen to you?" (Y/n) chuckled and took the tray from him before placing it on the small table on the floor.

"I don't know, they just... Do." Law smiles and gives them both a kiss on the cheek as soon as he lifted them up to his arms.

"Daddy! Papa won't let Lila take the glowy thing!" She protested.

"Dear, it'll zap you." Law calmly explains as he sat down beside (y/n).

Lila merely pouted as she stuffed her face with grapes.

"Daddy! Papa won't let me play!" Levin scoffed as he quietly ate some watermelon.

"Honey, the water will soak up everything." Law explained again.

The two seemed to finally understand as they happily ate the fruits.

"This combination is what I hate... Levin being the more smarter one while Lila is the more convincing one... Be right back, love. I'll need to hide my spell books." (Y/n) got up after kissing Law's cheek.

It made the other laugh as (y/n) ran out of the room to hide anything and everything that had his spells written down.

It won't be too long that the children will learn dragon language and chant spells (like he did when he was much, MUCH younger than them)

Law can't help but look at everything and thanked the stars he gave (y/n) a chance. Like his parents wanted him to.

If, like everybody else, he judges the dragon so... Easily... He wouldn't have a loving husband and two naughty children.

It still makes him blush thinking about calling (y/n) his "husband", though.

[datrb]

Night Visitor

Characters: Lanfor (20), Emile (20)

Synopsys: After almost three years of being missing, Emile finally comes back to Uvlance to find Lanfor in a much worse condition than he ever anticipated.

Passing nights were unusually hard for the young Emperor. What usually felt like a simple weakness and a headache, which he got used to, now rendered him unable to fall asleep, or get out of bed at all. And it wasn't helped by the fact that court healers had no idea how to help him.

Lanfor laid in his bed, not even trying to fall asleep anymore. Simply waiting for the morning to come, when he heard a slight squeak of the opening window, followed by the sound of climbing into the room and softly landing on the carpet inside of it.

Someone had broken into Emperor's bedroom. Lanfor did not dare to move, let alone look at the intruder, as thoughts of who this could possibly be swarmed his mind. Could it be a spy? A traitor? An assassin? The whole world was in unrest now, given how poor of a job he did, it was no wonder the people would try and get rid of him. He thought of calling the guards, but regardless of what he did, the outcome was already determined.

He had accepted his fate by the time when the sounds, which were gone ever since the intruder stepped foot on the carpet, resumed. But not in a way that Lanfor had anticipated.

"Come now, Lanfor. You know i can tell if you're sleeping or not." - A familiar voice was heard, making the Emperor wonder if his ears deceived him.

Overpowering his weakness, he turned in his bed to look at the intruder, but all he could see was a silhouette of a man, who laughed, before creating a small orb of dense magic in his hand. Just enough to light up his face.

"Hey, don't panic. It's still me, see?" - He walked closer to the Emperor's bed.

"Emile…" - Lanfor exhaled, under his breath, not believing his eyes.

He actually returned. His friend, who'd been gone for almost three years wasn't just alive, but stood right there in front of him. Lanfor tried to get up to properly greet Emile, but was stopped by his friend's heavy hand, forcing him back on the bed. Instead, the mage chose to sit down next to the Emperor.

One would think that friends who'd been away from one another for several years would have plenty of things to talk about, however, none of the two men spoke. Whether was it from awkwardness, lack of topics, or the abundance of those is anyone's guess, however, one thing was for certain. For Lanfor just seeing his friend alive and well already lifted a heavy weight from his heart.

"I- We thought that you were…" - Finally, young Emperor broke the silence, his voice sounded somewhat weakened.

"Dead?" - Emile scoffed, falling back, watching as the small ball of light flew above them. - "Now that's upsetting. Do you really have that bad of an opinion of me?" - He joked, failing to read the room.

"You… Didn't attend the coronation." - Lanfor grasped onto the sheets, looking away from the mage. - "And none of my letters gotten a reply since."

Emile's expression dropped. For a moment he was grateful that the lack of light in the room didn't let Lanfor see his face, as the silence between the two fell once again before being quickly broken.

"I couldn't. Your coronation was right next to my finals, and…" - Emile explained, trying his best to hide the doubt in his own words. - "I didn't appear in Uvlance since graduation."

"Why didn't you at least tell me?"

"... I don't know" - Mage confessed, after a pause, looking into the distance.

"Where were you even?" - Lanfor adjusted his position, to get his legs from below Emile's back, now sounding more annoyed than saddened.

"I was… Traveling. Mostly. Was all over the place! Elssia, Trading Union… I even got my way into Grauen! …Although that one ended up being somewhat disappointing." - Emile smiled excitedly, turning to his side and gesturing over an imaginary map. - "But you probably been to a lot more than that, being an Emperor an-" - He began, before cutting himself short, noticing Lanfor's tightened grip on the sheets. - "I-i didn't mean it like that. Oh, Great Dragon, i'm so sorry."

"It's okay. It really is. It used to be hard, but i got a hang of it, i think." - Lanfor smiled dimly at his friend. - "Although, i think you overestimate how much i get to leave the castle."

Hearing this, Emile sat back up, taking yet another look at Lanfor and, most importantly, his magic. As the ball of light passed above Emperor's head, the mage could barely hold back his emotions, not even sure what he felt at the sight of his friend's pale face, which expressed nothing but tiredness, no matter how much he attempted to hide it, accompanied by a shimmer of white that started to appear in his hair despite the young age.

And his magic… Emile couldn't even imagine how Lanfor's magic got to such a devastating state, wondering only how his friend managed to survive so long with it being this unstable. Emile silently reproached himself for leaving Lanfor.

Without even thinking, he reached out to Lanfor, bringing him into a hug, unable to say a word.

Lanfor was taken by surprise by his friend's actions, but didn't mind the embrace. Somehow, this made it feel almost as if all of his weakness and pain washed away in an instant, giving way to nothing but relief and calmness. The Emperor wrapped his hands around his friend, letting out a bitter laugh, as tears started running down his face.

Eventually, Emile let go, now looking straight at Lanfor, who was wiping out his tears. Mage sighed with a serious expression.

"You can't keep lying to yourself, you know."

"Wh- What do you mean?" - Lanfor's heart dropped, upon hearing that.

"Just…" - Words refused to come out Emile's mouth, making him fall back onto the bad again, with a frustrated groan. - "It's just that you're a moron."

Mage's sudden expression made Lanfor smile, letting out an agreeing sigh. For a while the silence fell between the two, but it felt different now, having no traces of initial awkwardness or discomfort. The Emperor looked towards the window, seeing only a starry sky, as careful wind moved the curtain out of the way. Such a peaceful night.

"You know, it's about time i settle down." - Emile broke the silence, dragging Lanfor out of his thoughts.

"And where are you going to stay? I want to at least be able to send letters."

"You tell me, Your Highness." - The mage shrugged. - "I barely had time to read your letters, and that one was not even a letter. It was just a bunch of paperwork."

"Wait you're…" -Lanfor couldn't believe his ears, yet unable to contain his excitement. - "You're agreeing to be my Court Mage!?"

"Well, yeah." - Emile got up on his elbows. - "I'm already here, might as well make myself useful."

"I guess." - Lanfor smiled, finally without a trace of sadness behind it, before answering to Emile's question. - "Usually all court servants live within the castle, but i don't think you'll like that all too much."

"If i'm getting into the position, might as well do it on my own terms!" - Emile plopped back onto the sheets with a victorious smile, just now noting for himself how much softer palace's beds were, compared to all of the taverns and farmhouses he spent nights in before.

Lanfor laughed at his friend's behaviour, almost as if he hadn't already begun coming up with ideas on how he could bend the rules to accommodate Emile's free-spirited nature. It wasn't unheard of for rulers to bend some rules for their loved ones, but it was a completely different thing to attempt and do the same for someone who was considered as little more than a personal servant or a guard. But maybe there was still a way.

"Do you still have the… watch, that i gave you?" - Lanfor asked, somewhat carefully.

Without a word, Emile reached into his inner pocket, taking out an intricately decorated pocket watch, all the little details of which came together to form royal family's crest. Small scratches shined in the dim light. Many would consider the fact that Emile allowed this piece of art to get scratched in the first place an act of disrespect, but to Lanfor it was simply proof that his friend never forgot.

This answer was more than enough for the young Emperor.

"In that case, we can discuss your "employment" tomorrow. I'll make sure to prepare everything in the morning and wait for you. Just… Promise that you will come."

"Well it's too late to back down now, is it?" - Emile replied, not really paying much attention, instead, playing around with the ball of light, like a cat would with a feather.

Who knows how long the two spent talking, laughing and remembering their past together. Who knows how many stories of Emile's adventures were shared, how many annoyances about being an Emperor Lanfor expressed, and how many memories of their childhood days the two men remembered.

Stories of their training together, of their school days, their teachers, their peers, of how they spent time in the castle's gardens and how they escaped from the palace at nights. Emile couldn't help but note that Lanfor should fix the gaps in the surveillance, otherwise he might not end up as the only night visitor for the Emperor.

Only when the night sky began to lighten up did they choose to part.

"Wish we could spend some more time like this, but it's really time for me to go." - Catching the ball of light said Emile. - "I did kinda break into the Emperor's room in the middle of a night, afterall."

Emile crushed the ball of light in his fist, after standing up, making the air around him fill with shimmering particles of magic, which soon faded. Lanfor prepared to get up as well, this time without being stopped by his friend, who, instead, handed the Emperor his cane.

"You can tell the rest tomorrow, when you visit in a more… legal manner." - Lanfor joked, taking the cane from Emile's hand and standing up.

Lanfor's body still felt somewhat weakened, but this time he stood straight, being helped by his friend, who also made sure he didn't accidentally bump into anything. Slowly, almost hesitantly, they made their way towards the balcony door. It was time to say goodbye.

They opened the balcony doors, letting the morning chill inside. On the railing lied a pointy hat, patiently awaiting its owner, moving ever so slightly with the breeze.

Emile patted his friend on the shoulder for the last time, before letting go of him and moving forward to take the hat. He jumped onto the railings and put his hat on in a single swift movement, like it was a carefully rehearsed action in a play.

"Until we meet again, Your Highness!" - Emile sang, turning to face Lanfor with a dramatic bow, making him laugh once more.

"Just make sure not to break any laws in your next visit."

"Then don't make me!"

Emile smiled for the last time, before jumping of the balcony back first, which caught the Emperor off guard, making him drop everything and rush towards the railing, only to notice a barely visible shadow running through the gardens and towards the palace's wall, allowing for a wave of relief to wash over Lanfor.

For a while he stood there, watching as the shadow of his friend closed in first on the Palace's wall, then ran between the buildings of the Castle and finally disappeared beyond the Castle's wall. He then lifted his gaze to look at the starry sky, quietly thanking everyone up there for letting him meet his old friend once again.

Only then did Lanfor realize that he managed to stand there all on his own for so long, having dropped the cane when he rushed towards the railings. He looked back at it, before coming to pick it up. For the first time since his coronation his body felt light enough to be able to stand on his own. He looked at the intricately designed piece of wood in his hand, before turning back towards the city and the night sky.

How long have it been since he managed to enjoy the beaty of the night like this? And when did he last leave the castle? His memories of the past years were a blur, feeling almost as if they didn't happen in the first place. However, now it suddenly felt as if the clouds in his mind were cleared with a single gush of wind.

Who knows, maybe it was some kind of a spell his friend used while he wasn't looking. Come to think of it, Emile never told him what he was capable of.

The Emperor looked to the sky one last time, before closing the balcony doors and going back to his bed.

This night he slept soundly.

[llondonfog]

You know how Lilia often talk about the fact that Silver grew up so fast, for him it’s like if he was a child yesterday and now he’s already a young fine man ?Well, the other day I realized how it felt when I looked at my brother’s cat, Soup.

For context, I know Soup since the day she was born and didn’t realize how fast she grew before holding her in my arms in the other day. Suddenly, I felt that she was not as small and light as she used to be not that long ago. But the shook really hit when I looked at the calendar and realized she was only 5 months old. Like, she was as small as my hand this spring, how could time flew that fast ?!

And then I realized that Soup will probably die in a couple of decade if she lives a good life, waaaaay before me. So I sat and though deeply about this feeling and in a way I understood how Lilia may feel about Silver.

Because Silver is his little kitten, his baby that he loves like his own son. And even if Silver will grow and age much faster than him, he’ll probably be his little kitten until the very end in his eyes, even if Silver is not youthful anymore.

Because like 20 years fly in the blink of an eyes for us, 80 years is nothing in the long life Lilia lived. Yet, the same way our cat will probably leave a deep memory in our lives years after they’ll quit us, Silver will certainly be remembered by Lilia until he himself die.

Of course, I already thought before that this must be quite horrible to feel, as a species that can live longer like fae, to see the ones you love pass out so quickly… But I think I didn’t expect to actually be able to grasp this feeling myself with my relationship with this cat.

Anyway, I needed to share this feeling and since I know you love Lilia and Silver relationship I thought you’d be interested.

as a first-time cat owner myself, i can't tell you how much your ask hit home with me, and makes a perfect reference point for how we interact with these characters. i know exactly how you feel— when i picked up my cat at three months old, he was the smallest, cutest little bundle of fluff, his ears accounted for half of his size! and it's so crazy to look at him curled up next to me now, in the space that could have fit three of him as a kitten. we're celebrating his third birthday in november, and it's hard to believe so much time has passed— where did it go? it feels like only yesterday i was eagerly prepping for his arrival and fussing over his every move, so worried that i wouldn't know how to care for him properly.

and the thought will strike me from time to time, just as it has with you about soup— i will outlive my cat, this sweet little creature that's given me so much joy, purpose, and delight in my life. the very notion of it doesn't seem real, and it's humbling to realize that life is so fleeting and precious, and we have to cherish the time we have with our loved ones (even if they're cats!) because time can only keep marching on.

also, as a person in my late twenties enjoying the game, lilia and silver's relationship really hits home when i consider silver's struggle to accept his own father's decline and compare that to my own parents and the inevitable fact of aging. i don't think i've ever seen a piece of media demonstrate the grief and fear of losing your family structure as well as twst has done, and it honestly floored me with how much respect and nuance that they're treating this relationship.

like you pointed out, the differences in silver and lilia's species and overall ages only underscores how treasured their relationship to each other truly is— lilia is over 700 years old and only found silver at the end of his life. silver is just on the cusp of adulthood, and lilia is all he's ever known, he's silver's entire world and the cornerstone of which he bases all else. and i think that prior to ch7, silver fully expected his father to live beyond him, and i think that was almost a comfort, in a way. to have lilia always be by his side, to never lose his most precious family member and to have the rest of his human life to give lilia the happy ending he keeps wishing for his father to know, only to now realize that those wishes can never come true. lilia will die before silver, and seemingly soon— can we even begin to grasp what that must feel like when you have no other family?

as i've mentioned, i just really appreciate how twst has been handling this development with the gravity and emotional weight that it deserves. silver will always be lilia's one and only son, and i hope that despite all that he's learning about his father's past and even his own, that lilia can remind him of that. no matter how fleeting silver's presence was in the span of lilia's long memory, it was the happiest time of his life.

in any case, thank you for this sweet ask, i really appreciate you sharing your thoughts and how it affected you when you applied it to your own daily life <3 and thank you for allowing me to ramble about my own in return <3

[fireflykaizoku]

Demon!Killer x Angel!Reader | Angels Like You

it is a bit long because i did everything i could not turn this into a multichapter

anyway, no thoughts rn, just demon!killer

It was well known that demons and angels have been in battles for over thousands of years now. Although things got quiet once in a while, there was always hate and rivalry between the two worlds. Most of the time, there was even a small competition between angels and demons.

When a soul was sent to the Purgatory, it was your task as an angel to help them and bring them to heaven no matter what. And of course, demons were sent to try to bring that soul to hell. And there was one demon that you knew way too well.

Killer.

He was an angel once, of course, all demons used to be angels. That would explain his angelic appearance, the opposite of his cruel behavior. His long blonde hair and blue eyes were heavenly, like you’d imagine an angel to be. However, his strong arms and merciless attitude were probably part of his demon side.

Not that you looked at him often, both of you just met at the Purgatory a lot. Ever since you met for the first time, it was weird and annoying the power he had over you somehow. At first, you just assumed it was because of how strong he was.

But was it all? Usually, you won the battle. People used to surrender easily to angels and the beauty of heaven, but it wasn’t rare to see people taking the devil’s hand and going to hell, a place full of promises of everything a human could desire.

That morning wasn’t different. You had the task to save another soul, and in that dark place of suffering, a tall figure with a blonde mane caught your attention. And then while looking at you with his mocking smile, the demon approached you.

— Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, pretty? — he asked while crossing his arms, bringing attention to his chest. The ridiculous joke and the nickname made you roll your eyes. Having no response, he continued. — What an innocent, gentle and fragile little thing like you are doing here? This isn’t a place for angels.

— You know what I’m doing here. — you flew by Killer, taking a look around. — I’m here to save a soul, unlike you, that likes to manipulate people into believing that hell is a good place. This is cruel of you.

The man followed you while he never stopped smiling. You spotted the new soul, as lost as anyone would be in the Purgatory. The light that surrounded you made the person look with eyes full of hope.

— Don’t worry. — you whispered, looking at them with kindness. — If you’re willing to be saved, we have a place in heaven for you. If you’re willing to regret and pray for your sins, you won’t stay here for much longer.

The demon let out a laugh that almost echoed through the whole space, making you shiver as he approached the poor man in front of you.

— Don’t listen to them. — he started. — Just come with me. You don’t have to do these silly little tasks to get salvation in return. Plus, you can have everything that your soul desires. For free.

It didn’t take the new soul too long to choose. After all, Killer and his proposals were too good for him to refuse. The poor man followed the demon, who smiled victoriously at you. 

— Don’t worry, I’ll save him like I saved many others. — you said. — You just wait and see. I won’t let you take another soul.

After a week, you decided to go to hell after a very long time. Hell. A place that almost every angel avoided and just the thought made some of them shiver. But it was for a bigger purpose. It was a matter of pride to save that man. It was a matter of pride not letting Killer win again.

But could angels have pride?

Hell was an awful place, but among ugly demons, Killer stood out as always with his unexplainable beauty. It wasn’t hard to find him torturing another soul.

— Well, well… — he started without even turning his back to look at you. It seemed like Killer could sense your presence from far. — What do we have here? The little angel decided to pay me a visit after so long?

— You know why I’m here. — you moved closer, feeling as brave as ever. — I’m here to do my job, which you usually make very difficult.

He raised an eyebrow, smiling and walking towards you. You tried to walk back, but at some point, you were cornered between the blonde demon and the dark walls. For a second, it felt like hell was empty and you were the only two creatures there. And maybe it was the warmth of the place, but you could feel a wave of heat all over your body.

Your eyes moved from the leather straps on his chest to his leather pants, making you gulp. Demons wore such attire for a reason, you believed.

— Why don’t you confess that you like to come here not only for the damned souls, but because you enjoy this mice and cat game as much as I do? — Killer’s unusual gentle fingers touched your chin, lifting your face up to make your eyes meet. 

The short distance between the two of you was making it hard to breathe. You were so lost in his blue eyes and warm breath, that you forgot any funny comeback and any snarky remark.

It felt like your mind went blank, and the only thing that you could think about was how good he looked for a demon. And right after, kicking yourself for having such thoughts.

Such lewd and sinful thoughts.

— That’s not true. — you whispered, stuttering. — I… I…

— What happened, pretty? — Killer had to hold back a giggle. — Demon got your tongue?

Before you could respond, the blonde let go of you, turning his back and going back to where he belonged. You decided it wasn’t the best moment to do your job, and still feeling your legs weak after what happened, you flew back to heaven, leaving one white feather as a souvenir of your presence there.

Ever since that day, not only you felt shy, embarrassed even, in front of Killer, but whenever you saw the demon, you got a weird sensation on your stomach. Just his presence next to you was enough to make your cheeks feel warm, and even forget what you had to do in the Purgatory in the first place.

It was unsettling, it was confusing. It was a foreign sensation, that not even once in your whole lifetime, you felt before. It was hard to understand if you were being punished by heaven for having unholy thoughts with a demon for less than a second, or if it was something good. After all, you liked the feeling somehow.

Killer noticed how uneasy you got around him, and the blonde took advantage of this. And when you noticed, Killer got way too bold. The demon passed by you touching your shoulder with an unusual gentleness, or got so close that you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

He found it amusing how you went from a brave little angel to a vulnerable little creature whenever you were around him. Killer found it cute, thrilling, exciting… Hot even.

After that, things were such a blur. Maybe you were so mesmerized, so numb and drunk in passion, that you couldn’t even recall why or how you surrendered to such an evil creature. Your rival.

No, your nemesis. 

How could you sneak out of heaven to meet Killer? How could you betray heaven and angels like this? But it was hard to think whenever you were in his strong arms and his tinted lips kissed you while whispering things that made your heart stop.

Maybe it was the evil in you speaking louder, maybe you simply wanted more and more of the sensation you had whenever you were incredibly closer to Killer. You didn’t want to think, though. You wanted to enjoy the feeling that heaven couldn’t give you.

Maybe demons were good at manipulating people. But you weren’t so naive, you could spot a lie from afar. Even when you went to hell to meet him, even when Killer had so much power over you, it was easy to tell that he was being genuine.

The blonde devil didn’t simply want to corrupt you, to see you fall and lose your wings and halo just like he lost his. You knew that he wanted the same thing as you wanted. He wanted to enjoy the passion, the exciting sensation and maybe even more than that.

This had been happening for months now, and sometimes, you were afraid that someone would get suspicious of your constant trips to Hell with the purpose of saving souls while no soul was actually being saved at this point.

— Why don’t you try to go back to heaven? — you suggested, resting your head against his muscular chest. — Why don’t you try to be saved so we don’t have to hide from our leaders?

— You know very well that angels can fall, but demons don’t ever rise, (Y/N). I can’t and I don’t want to be saved. — Killer whispered, caressing your cheek and making you look at him. — And if they find out that you’ve been coming down here to see me instead of “saving the poor lost souls”, you know what’s going to happen to both of us. Especially to you.

— They’ll pluck every feather from my wings. I know, I know… — you sighed. — But you know that I wouldn’t mind losing my powers to be here with you. I’m willing to.

The blonde looked at you with what seemed like pity or sympathy. 

— Hell isn’t a place for someone as graceful as you. — he shook his head. — I don’t want you to be in a place like this. Even though angels witness cruelty, I would never want you to see this every day for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t help giggling, which made the blonde raise an eyebrow. What was so funny?

— You sound too merciful for a demon. — you whispered, running your hand through his hair.

— And you sound too sinful for an angel.

You shook your head, still giggling. After a second, you took a deep breath.

There was a bit of good in Killer, just like there was evil in you too. You were both loyal to your job and beliefs, but were willing to break the main rules of heaven and hell for each other. In the end, demons and angels had a lot in common.

— Maybe we’ll be the ones turning into lost souls in Purgatory. — you closed your eyes, feeling weirdly safe in the arms of a demon.

— We do know that place well enough. — Killer agreed. — Or maybe we can take over hell and turn it into our own place.

And while you couldn’t find a solution for your forbidden relationship, there was nothing to worry for now. You had the whole eternity to find an agreement anyway, hoping that until then, no other creature would find out about your scandalous secret.

[probablygayattorneys]

I told my brother that if I never play Azran Legacy then Emmy never leaves and I can keep her in that moment forever

And he decided to lift the burden on me by just telling me why she left, thereby ripping off that bandaid. Only problem is, he’s never played Azran Legacy (or any Layton game, for that matter) so he doesn’t know either. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him, so he came up with a reason. And then a few more, just in case.

These reasons include:

-Roundhouse kicked a high ranking government official and is avoiding trial

-Layton doesn’t kill people… but he doesn’t always save them either, and then the train crashed.

-Took the fall for Two-Face killing cops so Harvey Dent’s legacy will live on

-She was the only one who could disarm the bomb but to keep her wife and kids safe she let Descole break her neck.

-Flashed her titties to everyone and is now off to find new people to flash

-She wasn’t actually the Professor’s assistant, she was his apprentice, but near the end of the game she really deepens her connection with the Force and starts to believe that she can overpower him and become the new Professor… however, when she tried to pull off this fight, it’s over, Emmy, the Professor has the high ground.

-Got a job at Hooters which has been a longtime dream of hers and the Professor told her she absolutely could not abandon her dreams to stay his assistant

-Bees.

-She learned the greatest secret the American government has been trying to keep from the public for years (Obama's last name) and had to be eliminated by any means possible.

-Emmy sacrificed herself to save the rest of them from the balrog but she comes back in New World Of Steam as Emmy the White.

-Got a ticket for the Eras tour and is still stuck in traffic leaving the stadium

-She was in a motorcycle accident and plowed into the side of an airplane hanger. She was so innocent… and stoned, apparently.

-After they all sang Seize the Day, she wasn’t able to escape from the cops and they hauled her off to the refuge.

-It’s not Emmy. The first Emmy you see, the teenage one he helps is Emmy, but every single one since is Don Paolo.

-She was just a courier, meant to deliver something to New Vegas, but the game was rigged from the start.

-Moved to Seattle with Grosky to start their own law office.

-This one just says "Bones"

-Was killed by 30-50 feral hogs that ran into her yard within 3-5 minutes while Luke was playing.

-Drove a segway off a cliff

-Bruce Willis was DEAD the ENTIRE TIME!

-Left a note that says “Professor’s Assistant Emmeline Altava Chooses Death” and then fucked off to Europe or something for a year

-She ran away to be with Descole. She was attracted to his manly figure. His Waluigi like body. His spindly little legs. The cut of his jib, if you will.

-Rode her Vespa into a crowd of people while screaming “PEPSI MAN!”

-Didn’t learn STREET SMARTS from JJ Bittenbinder and went to a secondary location

-“Tell me about the rabbits, Emmy.”

-She’s a Russian sleeper agent sent to kill the professor and it’s just taken so damn long because a good hitman doesn’t leave collateral damage but she finally got Layton away from Luke long enough to get the job done.

-Was at a bar on international women’s day, did two shots and tried to fight another girl which caused an all out full bar fight and she fell into a coma after a third girl hit her over the head with an almost full bottle of Hood River Gin.

-Professor Sycamore’s airship flew her to places she���d never been… now she’s lying on the cold hard ground (goat noise)

-The time machine wasn’t stable enough to keep her in the present and it sent back in time to the moment the time machine exploded, sealing her fate.

-Moved to France to learn how to be a heart surgeon.

-She finally was approved to manage her own Dairy Queen franchise.

-She is dead and has been for the past ten years. The professor needs to let her go. The accident wasn’t his fault.

-She walked to Memphis to become a dentist. Anything but this.

-Most think... She died.

-....But I think we oughta believe she made it to the other side :)